#basil x fem reader

[redskull199987]

All the right Moves

Eskel x female Witcher!reader  Word count:2.4k warnings: canon typical violence, reader is injured, fluff at the end Summary:You´re on your way back to Kaer Morhen together with Eskel, as you run into a Leshy. You knew that something was wrong, as Eskel told you he wouldn't want to travel with you anymore…

Masterlist

You were hiking so fast, that you could feel your lungs burning inside your chest. Your throat dry from not drinking anything for hours. Your feet were begging you to stop, even just for a minute. But you knew, you couldn't. If you stopped now, he would be dead, once you reached Kaer Morhen. You just had to make it in time. If Eskel died, you would never forgive yourself. His words were still ringing in the back of your head.

“Leave me alone!”, he yelled, as he pushed you away from him. Confused, you looked at the Witcher, who was normally warm and understanding around you. All you had done was touch his shoulder carefully, asking if you could see his injury.“Eskel…are you okay?”, you mumbled, Confusion still written all over your face.

“Just fuck off.”, he cursed under his breath, turning away from him. 

You watched in confusion as he walked away from you, gathering his weapons. He didn't look back at you even once.

Your breath hitched slightly, as you could finally see the silhouette of Kaer Morhen on the Horizon. One or Two hours more and you would reach the old castle. It would be nightfall by then. You finally started to walk again, reaching into your pocket to find the potion, that was the reason why you were so late. You were sure that all the others had already arrived. Geralt and Vesemir probably worrying not only about Eskel, but also wondering why you didn't arrive yet. 

You desperately wished that you weren't so late. But it had taken you longer than expected, to find someone who knew how to make the potion you needed. If it weren't for a mage, who was a good friend of yours, who teleported you near the mountains, where Kaer Morhen was, you would´ve lost several days and Eskel would probably be dead already. But luckily, you were only half a day behind him, which luckily gave you enough time to save him. Or so you hoped. 

“Just fucking leave me alone!”, Eskel screamed at you, after you had finally managed to get a good look at his shoulder.“You´re infected, Eskel!”, you yelled, trying to grab his hand,”If we don´t do something, you will die!”“I am not going to die, so just leave me alone. I don't need you. I never needed you!”, he barked, looking at you with a stern expression. You were taken aback by his words. You knew that he didn't mean it, he didn't know what he was saying. But it still hurt you. 

 Before you could say something more, he was already mounting the horse and running off. You didn't try to follow him. It was worthless. You knew that he would be in Kaer Morhen after you found a potion that would save him. 

You looked at his back one more time, before making your way into the other direction, already knowing who you could ask for help.

A small sigh left your lips,as you finally reached the doors of the keep. You were about to push it open, as the medallion around your neck started shaking. Hastily, you made your way inside. This wasn't the first time this happened today. But this time it was much harsher. 

You didn't see anyone at first. The great hall was completely empty, but you could see plates full of food and tankards filled with ale standing all over the place. Someone was here not long ago. 

Your head shot up, as you heard ruckus coming from the laboratory, seconds later the sound of pots being smashed and tables thrown over. As you finally started running, you could hear a beasty groan. “Fuck.”, you grunted as you heard the voices of Geralt and Vesemir. And as you finally reached the designated room, you peeked through the open door. What you saw almost made you lose your composure.  

Right there, just a few meters in front of you, was Eskel towering over the other two Witchers. But he wasn't himself. Not in the slightest. He had transformed into a wooden beast, his face barely visible, but it was there. 

Mere seconds, after laying your eyes on him, you wanted to storm towards him, but a magical shield was blocking the door. You quickly drew your sword, as you saw what was about to happen. 

Eskel had managed to trap Vesemir, resulting in Geralt lighting up his sword to end it.

As fast as you could, you muttered a spell and lifted your sword. With all your power, you pierced it through the barrier.

You took three big steps, breathing in heavily, knowing that what you were about to do would knock the air out of your lungs. 

And only as you stepped in front of him, lifting your blade to meet his in the air, Geralt had finally noticed your presence. He looked at you perplexed, as your sword clanked against his, the metall hissing from the heat. “What are you doing?”, he asked, not even angry, but genuinely concerned. “You're not going to take him away from me!”, you claimed, as Geralt slowly lowered his sword.

“Please just trust me!”, you urged the white wolf. He only nodded at you, as you quickly turned around, grabbing the small potion from your pocket.

“Eskel?!?!”, you yelled as loud as you could. The beast-turned Man quickly turned around, upon hearing your voice. Vesemir, who had previously been choked, fell to the ground, coughing. “Take care of him!”, you ordered Geralt, who was able to quickly make his way over to the older Witcher, since Eskel´s attention was all on you now. 

“Here goes nothing.”, you muttered under your breath, as you felt a branch pierce through your shoulder. You yelped, as you were lifted into the air, more branches wrapping around your body. You were pushed against a wall, as Eskel leaned closer to you.

“Y/N”, he sputtered, his eyes scanning your form. 

“It's me, Eskel.”, you affirmed, slowly bringing the potion to your mouth to rip the cork off, “You´re going to be alright, my love. Don´t worry.”

Eskel was about to answer, but no words left his mouth, he was just staring at you. You quickly realized that this was your chance, as he was momentarily confused. You lifted your arm, as best as you could and threw the small bottle of potion right into his mouth. He choked on it for a second, not comprehending what had just happened. “I'm sorry in advance.”, you quickly mumbled, before lifting your foot and kicking him in the jaw, in order to make him swallow the potion. 

Your breath hitched for a second, as you didn´t know what was going to happen. Would it work? Would he live?

As you fell to the ground with a grunt, you were pretty sure that it was working. Grabbing your bleeding shoulder, you quickly backed off, as Eskel started to squirm around, an angry scream leaving his lips.

“Y/N?!”, Geralt yelled, as he tried to reach you, but Eskel´s branches were throwing a tantrum, swinging all around the hall.

“Please just work.”, you prayed, but suddenly, all movement stopped. The room was silent for a second, before all the wood surrounding you suddenly started  corroding. You watched with wide eyes, how all the branches coming out of Eskel slowly crumbled away all the way up to his body.  He had stopped moving for a second, but as you stood up and called out for him, the wooden exoskelett rumbled to life. You heard cracking and wood breaking and seconds later, you saw Eskel´s Human body falling out of what looked like a tree stump now.

"Eskel!", you gasped and leaped forward just in time to catch him. His body weight pulled you down with him. He was still unconscious, as you slowly turned him around, resting his head on your lap. Just now, you took a good look at him. His entire body was covered in dirt. Vines and leaves had grown in and around his clothes. The only thing untouched, was his Witcher medallion.

“He´s alive.”

You looked up at Geralt and Vesemir who were now standing in front of you. Vesemir was still leaning on Geralt for support, but apart from that he seemed fine to you.

“You saved his life”, Geralt added. All you could do was nod. Your emotions were slowly coming to the surface now and you realized that you could´ve lost him today. But here he was, laying in your arms unconsciously. 

"Come on.” , Vesemir  patted your shoulder, kneeling down next to you,”Let's get him fixed up. We´ll take care of this”, he lifted his hand to gesture around the completely destroyed room,”later, alright?”

You just nodded again, stepping aside, as Geralt and Vesemir proceeded to lift Eskel up to carry him to his room. As the other Witchers ran into you, you promised them an explanation , but for now, you needed to look after Eskel.

Your eyes kept falling shut over and over again, as you lay in a chair in front of Eskel´s bed. It had been a few hours since you managed to cure him from the infection. He hadn't woken up since. You tried to stay awake but sleep was gnawing at you, like a hungry aeschna.

“Sorry? Are you Y/N?”

Your eyes opened once more, as you looked over to the door to see who had come to visit you. A young girl was standing in the doorway. Her long blond hair was slightly disheveled and the bottom of her white dress was dirty and ripped open.

“You must be the child surprise.”, you stated, after getting up and bidding her inside.

“Cirilla of Cintra.”, she smiled, as she stepped inside,”Geralt sent me to give you this. He said it would help with your exhaustion.”

You looked at her curiously, as she handed you a small bottle of potion. You gingerly took it and inspected it´s contents. After recognizing the mixture, you quickly downed it in one sip. Mere seconds after, you already felt it working. Your eyes didn´t feel as heavy anymore and your limbs stopped aching a bit.

“Thank you Cirilla.”, you finally said and gifted the young girl a soft smile.  

She only nodded and was about to leave, as you gently grabbed her wrist. She turned around perplexed.

You cleared your throat once more, before finally speaking again:”Geralt told me that…that Eskel was a bit rude with you, upon arriving here at Kaer Morhen.”

“He wasn't exactly the nicest.”, she admitted after you finally let go of her hand.

“I want to apologize for his behavior”, you sighed, rubbing your neck,”He isn't usually like this. He didn't even let me touch him, after he was injured. This infection…it did something to him, changed him.”

Cirilla didn't say anything, but instead stepped closer to the bed, Eskel was lying in. She inspected him carefully, her eyes wandering over his exhausted body. 

“I really hope that he will wake up again. I would like to meet the real Eskel.”, she uttered and turned around to you with a smile. “Yeah, me too.”, you mumbled weakly. You were really missing your soft Witcher. The way he always smiled at you with his big eyes, the way his hands felt on your skin, his lips on yours, his gentle voice, as he mumbled sweet nothing into your ear in the early mornings. You just wanted him to wake up again.

“Hey?”, Ciri asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. She must have noticed how shaken up you were, “He'll be alright. You saved him, right?”

You only nodded, slowly petting her shoulder:”You should go to sleep now. It's late and you must be tired, after all this ruckus.”

“You should get some sleep too.”, she smiled softly before leaving the room. You threw one last glance her way, before the door finally closed and the room was silent again.

At least for a few moments.

Your head shot up, as you heard groaning coming from the bed. That could only mean one thing: Eskel was awake.

You quickly made your way over to the bed and you would be lying if you said, your heart didn't skip a beat. There he was. He was alive and well. His heartbeat going steady and his breath a little shallow, but also very much there. 

As he looked up and his eyes landed on you, you couldn't hold yourself back any longer. you stepped forward, kneeling down on the side of the bed, your arms pulling Eskel into a massive hug.

“Woah there, bug. It's alright, I'm here.”, Eskel affirmed, as you buried your face  in his shoulder,”I'm here with you.” 

“Yeah”, you sniffled, a few lonely tears rolling down your cheeks. You finally parted to get a good look at him. Frankly, he still looked unbelievably tired. Dark circles were prominent under his eyes and you noticed that he moved with a bit of discomfort. “What happened, bug?”, he suddenly asked you, now fully sitting up against the headrest.

“The leshy.”, you mumbled, reaching out for his hand. He gladly intertwined his fingers with yours. “It infected you, after we fought against it.”

“Fuck, I think I remember now.”, he hissed,”I'm so sorry. The things I said, I did. I was such an arsehole, wasn´t I?”

“Well, Ciri certainly thinks so.”, you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. But Eskel didn't laugh. Instead he lifted his hand to softly grasp your cheek. He gently wiped away your tears, but new ones were already coming, upon feeling his soft touch again.

“I am sorry.”, he said firmly,”Thank you for saving my ass.” “Of course.”, you assured,”I would do anything for you. I love you.” “I love you, bug”, Eskel mumbled, pulling you back into his chest. A small sigh left your lips, after settling against his body. You finally allowed yourself to rest, after so many hours of being completely on edge. Eskel was alive. You did, in fact, save him. 

“Rest.”, you heard him whisper into your ear, as he pulled you closer to his body. His warmth spreading welcoming you, after he pulled the blanket over you.

“You deserve it.”

[greenandsorrow]

Would anyone be interested in a mini series in which the reader is Sunny's caretaker after the events of the game (good ending)?

It's not gonna be anything grand, but I feel like indulging myself in writing it, like a pleasant side hustle to my main work.

Send me a quick message if you wanna be tagged when it's posted!

I think I'll go for smaller chapters so I can post more often, describing their every day life. (Maybe I'll allow requests regarding that but only time will tell.)

my masterlist

THE FIC!!!!

[moonstruckme]

Hi! I dont know if you write smut, but if you do, I was wondering if you could do a bestfriend!james and reader going further above the just touching? Like, they're cuddling and then suddenly grinding, leading to some you knooow!! Hehe, thank you!

I do ! This one is fairly tame though, sorry, it just felt more right for them in the moment. Thanks for requesting babe <3

cw: pg-13 smut

bestfriend!James x fem!reader ♡ 658 words

James is hardly the poster boy for cleanliness, but even he won’t stoop to getting in bed with jeans on. Which is how the two of you always end up like this, curled up under his covers and pantless for a midafternoon nap. 

The first time you did this, you were hardly able to sleep, but now it feels fairly normal. It helps that you’ve got the world’s least sexy underwear on, full-coverage and worn, a pinkish beige color that you suppose was probably supposed to be someone’s skin tone but you’d only bought as part of a multipack. And James has the comfiest bed in the world, a weighted comforter and the sort of heavenly mattress only generational wealth can procure. His arm is strewn loosely over your side, his front pressed to your back, and his breath is a steady rhythm on the nape of your neck. You’ve never felt so blissfully warm and heavy. 

You know without knowing how that James is starting to wake up just like you are, slow and lazy. You stretch out a leg, feeling the muscles tense all the way up your back, and he splays his hand on your abdomen as though to keep you in place. Makes a soft, sleepy sound. 

Later, you’ll say that you don’t even remember deciding to do it. Maybe you’re too tired to think straight, maybe you’re still halfway in a dream, but you nudge your hips back into James. A subtle movement. Incidental. 

Only, James nudges back. And he tilts his head so his mouth moves closer to your shoulder, mumbling something incoherent into your skin. 

It feels good. You keep going. After a while, his hand has migrated up to cup your tit, not hard, not squeezing, just a lazy perusal of unexplored skin. There’s not much of your skin James doesn’t know, but this is some of it. 

There’s a nice, sluggish warmth seeping into your core, sweet as a river of honey. Your breaths are still relaxed, syncing now. 

“James,” you whisper, his name hardly more than breath. 

“Yeah.” His hand trails back down to your hip, helping you turn over. “C’mere.” 

Your mouth practically falls onto his. There’s no parting of lips, no tentative pecks. Your mouths find each other warm and open. James tastes like basil, the pasta you’d had for lunch, but somehow also like himself, like even his saliva is a little bit sweeter than everyone else’s. 

You end up on top of him through a team effort, your leg hooked over his and his hands helping you the rest of the way. He holds your hips gently, guiding you back and forth over him. 

It’s slow and easy, like leaves swaying in the breeze or the tide coming in. So natural you wonder if this is actually the first time it’s happened. Maybe you and James have been doing this, somewhere just outside the reaches of your consciousness, forever. 

“Jamie,” you say in between kisses. Your voice hardly sounds like yours, breathy and still stretched with sleep. “What’re we doing?” 

“Dunno.” James’ voice sounds just as lax. It’s oddly comforting. “Don’t stop, yeah?” 

You weren’t planning on it. You let your head fall beside his on his pillow, face nestled in the downy softness of his curls while you kiss at the skin behind his ear. 

James makes a murmured sound of encouragement. His thumb begins to make smooth, indolent circles over the fabric of your underwear. 

“I fucking love these ones,” he sighs. 

You guess they’re not so unsexy after all. Once you decide you’re done with his neck, he takes a turn, slipping your sleeve off your shoulder to give you a pretty mark just to the left of your collarbone. Your bodies are warm everywhere they touch, that heat in your core a steady comfort. 

You don’t talk any more. You fall back asleep with your nose smushing into his cheek. 

[sayoneee]

☆ PARENT TRAP

in which, a plan is devised to set the two of you up (1.9k)

contains: luke castellan x fem! reader. mortal au. baby percabeth (they are 12). percys pov. loser older brother luke castellan 🔛🔝

kashaf’s note: i think we can tell i love my music references by now. (answering requests soon!)

i. remember the time - michael jackson

PERCY HAS ALWAYS liked afternoons: sitting on the green couch in his apartment, the smell of his favorite blue cookies wafting through the air, and the constantly running episodes of gilmore girls on the tv — that you had convinced him to give a try — and sometimes the addition of grover, who was prone to start passionate tirades on climate change.

though after summer camp, his relatively quiet afternoons now included at least two mentions of “seaweed brain” and two of “wise girl”. 

percy’s trying to stay focused on rory freaking out over thanking dean for something (annabeth is almost laser-focused), but the doorbell rang a while ago, and you still haven’t returned. 

“annabeth,” he whispered, to no avail — he guessed dean really had that effect on people. he tried again, waving a hand in front of her face. she blinked twice before being lifted from the spell of gilmore girls. 

“what?” annabeth asked.

“who’s at the door?” 

annabeth’s eyebrows rose. she turned around, looking past where you were still holding the door open, one hand animatedly gesticulating, the other still on the doorknob. 

“that’s my brother,” annabeth said, turning back to look at percy. 

but percy isn’t paying attention to her right now, instead, he’s focusing on the bits of conversation audible between you and this stranger, who’s smiling very peculiarly down at you.

“— no way, me too,” the stranger is saying, grinning.

you’re saying, “deadass? prove it —” 

“— are you always so skeptical —” 

percy gets up off the couch, annabeth beside him, striding over to you and the stranger, who, for a reason he can’t quite put a finger on, seems weird. 

“hi,” percy says, looking at you, pointedly ignoring the stranger. you and the stranger seem to freeze, your hand halting mid-tuck of your hair behind your ear, something percy has only seen you do around one of your ex-boyfriends. 

“hi,” annabeth says, looking at the stranger, who smiles in response. again, weird.

“ready to go?” the stranger asks, “or are you going to take over their spare bedroom?”

“luke, you’re not funny,” annabeth grumbles, but she doesn’t look that put out by luke’s teasing percy notes. 

you’re smiling, but you’re not looking at annabeth. you’re looking at luke, your one hand still on the doorknob. interesting. 

“you’ve got your yankees cap?” you confirm as annabeth laces up her converse, as you and luke are engaged in a tiny conversation of your own. percy wordlessly hands the worn-out cap to annabeth once she’s finished, saying his goodbye.

once annabeth and her brother are long gone and you’re no longer leaning against the door, you’re still smiling widely, and percy wonders why.

ii. shoop - salt n pepa  

gilmore girls is on again, and luke is here to pick up annabeth. again. but for whatever reason, annabeth still hasn’t left, and you and luke are sitting in the kitchen, alone, conversing loudly. 

annabeth isn’t as hyper-focused on dean and rory’s argument as percy had thought she would be a week ago — he assumed that dean’s appeal died the minute he got mad in that banged-up car. annabeth is saying something about architecture, eyes shining, though he’s not sure which one she’s talking about, hagia sophia or st. basil’s cathedral. your loud laugh seems to ring from the kitchen every minute or so, and well since you’ve begun babysitting him, he can’t say the sound is unfamiliar, but the frequency is suspicious. he doesn’t trust luke. 

“annabeth,” he says, when she’s stopped talking.

“percy,” she responds in the same tone, her smile bright.

“how long has your brother been in the kitchen for?” he says, trying to sound nonchalant, but missing the mark horrifically.

annabeth looks at the watch on her wrist, “woah —”

“what does woah mean?” percy knows he’s being impolite, and his mom taught him to never interrupt people, but he can’t help it at this moment. 

“i was just getting to that, seaweed brain,” annabeth rolled her eyes good-naturedly, “we were supposed to leave an hour and half ago.”

this was bizarre. “no offense, but what does my babysitter and your brother even have in common to be talking nonstop for an hour and half?”

“no idea,” annabeth says, thoughtfully. “is she in a band? luke’s in a band.”

“no,” percy says, but he thinks he remembers your last boyfriend being in a band. “is your brother a senior?”

“yeah — does she do boxing? luke does.”

“i actually don’t know,” percy pauses, “i think we should see for ourselves,” he stands up. 

“wait,” annabeth says, “they might go quiet if they see we’re around. let’s just turn off the tv and eavesdrop.”

percy grins, annabeth was such a genius, “you got it, wise girl.” 

they’re both so silent, he wonders if you’ll notice, but with the way you’re laughing again, borderline giggling, actually — which is odd — as you say, “shut up, you know what i meant,” he doesn’t think you’ll realize. 

“erm, actually i don’t,” luke says, nasally (in what percy hopes is mockery). 

percy looks at annabeth, who rolls her eyes at him and mouths, ‘he’s being ironic’. percy stares at the patterns in the carpet, and annabeth stares at the picture of percy and his mom hung on the wall, as they continue to strain their ears — which isn’t hard because of how noisy you and luke are together.

“you’re so insufferable.”

“and you’re the one who invited me in, so.”

“i was being nice,” you sound like you’re protesting, but percy and annabeth note the amusement in your voice with another shared glance.

“you? nice? let’s be forreal.”

“i’m literally not even mean.”

“you literally are.”

annabeth peeks at him, and percy thinks he’s had enough of listening to this conversation, which is quickly becoming weird. and mushy. he can practically see how you’re looking at luke, and how he’s looking at you, which is not at all something he wants to imagine.

he nods at annabeth, and they both try to make their footsteps as loud as possible when they start approaching the kitchen, just in case. 

he’s grateful to every higher being out there when he and annabeth find you and luke in the kitchen simply sitting next to each other, no funny business involved. 

iii. doo wop (that thing) - ms. lauryn hill

you’re on the phone, giggling. annabeth is over again, and there’s no luke in sight, but percy suspects he’s on the other end of the line. 

percy sighs and turns to annabeth, who always seems to know what to do because this little situation has gotten unbelievably out of hand. 

“is that your brother on the phone?”

annabeth’s concentration on the teetering jenga tower on the coffee table lingers, doo wop (that thing) playing on the tv in the background, “yeah, i think so.”

“how do you know?” percy asks, watching annabeth carefully choose a jenga block to remove.

“they like each other,” annabeth says, looking at him, as if it’s as obvious as grass being green.

“no, they don’t,” percy pauses for a minute when annabeth raises her eyebrows at him. “how do you know?” 

“luke’s always calling her at home,” annabeth said, “and he made her a mixtape.”

“that doesn’t mean they like each other, that just means he likes her,” percy points out, crossing his arms. 

they hear you giggle in the kitchen again. annabeth looks at him as if that proves her point.

annabeth blinks, her face lighting up, “oh my god, percy, we should set them up.” 

percy stares at her. he can’t deny that for as long as he’s known annabeth, she’s seldom been wrong, but he doesn’t think this is the best idea. but, percy trusts annabeth, so he agrees.

iv. this is how we do it - montell jordan

percy’s spying on you. well, he doesn’t consider it to be spying exactly, he’s just making sure nothing happens to you because despite annabeth’s constant defense of her brother, percy still doesn’t trust luke. percy’s always thought of you more than just his babysitter, after all the attempts at making blue hot chocolate and the comforting after nightmares, you’ve turned into his sister. 

he’s at annabeth’s place now, and both of them decided to put their — what annabeth swears is fool-proof — plan into action. step number one: getting luke to invite you inside when you come to pick him up (which was so unbelievably easy, considering how luke has perpetual heart eyes when you’re around).

currently, you’re in the kitchen with luke (the two of you are always congregating in kitchens for some reason), and annabeth decided that she and percy absolutely had to keep an eye on the two of you.

you’re gasping, “luke castellan, you are such a liar.”

luke is laughing, “no i’m not.” his cheeks are red.

you’ve seemed to notice this, and percy can see your gaze soften as you look at luke, but that doesn’t stop you from making your point, “no, oh my god, you call me the mean one but here you are, talking shit about your rivals, just because they’re better?”

percy has seen you argue with your ex-boyfriends, but not like this — not bright-eyed, and smiling, and none of them have been able to just flow the way you seem to with luke. this is it, he thinks, annabeth was completely and utterly right (as she is 90% of the time). 

“you take that back right now, those motley crue knockoffs aren’t better than us,” luke says, sounding kind of angry, but percy can see his smile.

“you’re totally bugging,” you say, “what’s wrong with motley crue?”

luke looks scandalized, and almost as if he’s pleading, he says, “please tell me you’ve at least listened to guns n roses,” pushing his hands together in a namaste position.

“i don’t live under a rock, castellan,” you rolled your eyes at him, pushing his hands down. annabeth shares a look with percy.

“i mean, you never know,” he says, and you scoff, shoving him.

percy raises his eyebrows at annabeth, and she seems to know exactly what he’s thinking — time to put step two into action: set up a going-out idea.

percy and annabeth pretend to walk closer to the kitchen, to give the two of you time to spring apart, because you and luke weren’t a very pg distance right now — maybe pg-thirteen, but percy wasn’t supposed to be watching those, so.

annabeth jerks a finger at percy, as you and luke looked up at their arrival, addressing luke, “percy doesn’t believe that your band actually plays in public.”

percy’s head whips toward annabeth, trying not to glare at her, because the look on luke’s face right now was not at all amusing, but at least you were smiling, so you’d definitely stop luke from killing him.

“yeah, luke,” you say, smirking, “where do you guys even play?”

luke frowns, “the usual but we’re playing at the fair next week if you’re so interested.” the last part is aimed at percy, but their plan is going well so far, so percy doesn’t think he’ll have to sleep with one eye open tonight.

“when?” you ask, interested.

percy watches luke turn to you, surprised. “saturday — why, you wanna come?”

“yeah,” you admit easily.

percy looks at annabeth, who’s smiling and percy can’t help but feel proud of their idea.

“really? we don’t go on until like seven though.”

“yeah, someone has to be there to cheer for you so you don’t feel too bad when no one else does,” you grin.

luke turns to you, masking his smile with a fake air of irritation, “gee, thanks.”

“what are friends for?”

percy shares a disappointed glance with annabeth who begins to shake her head, as luke’s smile freezes in place, and you suddenly look extremely remorseful.

time to come up with a new plan. 

© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[lowkeyremi]

SWITCHIN' THE POSITIONS FOR YOU, COOKIN' IN THE KITCHEN !

pairing: s. gojo x fem!reader (drabble) note: i saw a poll asking who would be the worst in the kitchen and a lot of people (along with myself) voted gojo summary: satoru wants to make you dinner for a change but it goes terribly wrong for him ! content: fluff, gojo can NOT cook, established relationship (marriage), just cute stuff nothing crazy :3 wc: 783

An hour ago. That was when your husband told you not to worry about dinner, because, 'I've got it covered!' You've been married to Satoru for a long time, so you trusted his judgement. That was then, and right now you're worried because you are 100% sure something in the kitchen is burning right now.

If the groans and frustrated clanging of pots and pans weren't something to go by, then you weren't sure what was. As happy as you would have been to eat whatever burnt mess your husband made, you really didn't want the fire department to have to put out a fire in the building.

So, the only other option was to help him. He was bound to complain and tell you he can do it himself, but you won't have any of that.

"Baby? You okay?" All of the noise in the kitchen quiets when you call out for your husband.

"Yeah, I'm fine! Don't- don't come in here yet I'm not done." A loud crash sound ensues and a loud groan leaves Satoru's lips.

"I think I should come in now, yeah?" He sighs quietly. He's so let down that he nods forgetting that you can't see him before whispering a soft, "Yeah."

"What are you in here making, 'toru?" His blue eyes are just as pouty as his lips are. You find it hard to keep your own eyes on him when out of the corner of your eyes you can see something bubbling over onto the stove with a "psh" sound.

"Was making you pasta, but I burnt the noodles and now the sauce is burning." His voice holds none of his usual cheeriness, his lips hold a very deep frown, and his eyes droop down.

"Aww baby, that was really sweet of you. How about we clean this up and order takeout?" His frown deepens, if that's even possible.

"But I wanna cook you dinner," He whines quietly. Of course you're going to help him make dinner now, because he was so set on cooking for you. Satoru's never had to cook because of his family background, which is why everything in the kitchen is in the state that it's in.

An uneasy feeling washes over you when you see the amount of dishes that are in the sink and what time it is. By the time you guys finish cleaning the kitchen and buy groceries for dinner, it'll be late, but it's worth seeing a smile on his face.

"Well, let's get to cleaning if we wanna eat before midnight." His pout is immediately turned into a big, bright smile.

"Okay!!"

After much cleaning and a trip to the grocery story you and your husband are ready to cook.

"Okay, now that our hands are clean and we have everything that we need, do you mind passing me a tomato?" Without hesitating he picks up a the red fruit and slips it into your hand.

"Thank you, Honey." He smiles diligently as he watches you slice the tomato into halves.

Once he thinks he's seen you do it enough times he asks to give it a try.

"Careful 'toru. Don't cut yourself." With ease he slices through the tomato, keeping his hand away from the knife just as you had. Satoru Gojo is good at everything he does, so of course the cut is perfect.

"Look at you baby, you're a pro at this!" His ego is already pretty big, but it wouldn't hurt to let him feel some pride after his cooking disaster earlier.

While Satoru cut up the rest of the tomatoes, you started boiling the water and browning the beef. You make sure to season the meat with Italian styled seasonings such as oregano, basil, parsley, a long with the essential seasonings.

Satoru's attention is turned to you when he finishes the tomatoes. "Why didn't we just get the fresh stuff at the store instead of those seasonings?"

"Because I want to cut some prep time off. It does the same thing, don't worry too much about it. On top of that we're making homemade sauce so it'll be fine." He nods, but you're 100% sure he has no clue what any of that meant.

The pasta turned out way better this time and Satoru was so excited, "Okay okay, one more picture and then we can eat. It's just- gosh baby this looks so good. Thank you for teaching me how to make this."

It's not fair how he can easily fluster you. "Your welcome, 'toru. Now can we eat? I'm starving."

He lets out a laugh deep from his belly, "Yeah, let's eat before our hard work gets cold."

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

[natsaffection]

I have a platonic, non smut request if you’re down! Nat x fem!reader, they’re a couple and live in a neighborhood w a girl who’s young (5 or smth) . The girl is sweet and has lemonade stands in front of her house n stuff so that’s how nat and reader interact w her. One day, the girl runs to nat and reader’s house, banging on the door begging to be let in because her mom’s boyfriend beat her up or was threatening to. Nat and reader let her in immediately and go into protection mode, even when the bf starts spitting lies, blaming the girl.

This was inspired by a video I saw where a neighbor was protecting a girl and thought it would work perfectly w nat given her own red room history n stuff. I feel like she would tolerate no BS. I know this is very different from what u normally write so I hope it’s ok 🫶

Through Darkness | N.R

Warnings: Domestic Violants, Threatening to hurt a child, mentioned of Bruises, Happy end!!

Word count: 5,4k

A/n: That was the sweetest thing I've ever written. But I needed help, so I watched We Bought a Zoo with Scarlett while I was writing.🫂

Natasha leaned against the kitchen counter, drinking a glass of water. Her sharp eyes watched you as you bustled around the kitchen, preparing dinner. The scent of fresh basil and tomatoes filled the room, making the house feel even more like a home. It had been a few months since they moved into this quiet neighborhood. After everything Natasha had been through, the chaos and destruction, the idea of a peaceful life seemed foreign to her. But here, with you by her side, she began to understand what peace could feel like.

“Dinner’s almost ready!” you said, looking up from the pot you were stirring. Your smile was one Natasha had grown fond of. Warm, welcoming, and full of love. It was a smile that made Natasha’s heart ache with how much you meant to her. She smiled back, setting down her glass and moving to stand next to you. “It smells fantastic. You always manage to make something special out of so little.”

You chuckled softly. “Years of practice. Plus, I had to learn to keep up with you.” Before Natasha could respond, a high-pitched voice outside caught her attention. “Lemonade! Fresh lemonade! Only fifty cents a cup!”

Both of you turned to the window that overlooked the front yard. There, on the sidewalk across the street, stood a little girl, no older than five. Her brown curls bounced as she enthusiastically waved a homemade sign. Next to her was a small table with a pitcher of lemonade and a few paper cups. You smiled affectionately. “She’s out there almost every day. Have you seen her?” Natasha nodded. “Yes, I’ve noticed her a few times. Sweet kid.”

“Let’s go say hello.” you suggested, already wiping your hands on a dish towel. “And maybe grab some lemonade.” Natasha hesitated for a moment, but the gentle encouragement in your eyes was enough. “Alright.” she agreed with a smile.

Together, you left the house and crossed the street. The little girl’s face lit up as she saw you approaching. “Hi!” she called out cheerfully, her brown eyes sparkling with excitement. “Do you want some lemonade?” You knelt down to her level, your smile gentle. “We’d love some. What’s your name, little one?”

“I’m Lily!” the girl said proudly, carefully pouring lemonade into two cups. Natasha handed her a dollar bill. “Keep the change, Lily.” Her eyes widened, and she beamed at Natasha. “Thank you! My mom says it’s important to save money, and I want to buy a new doll.”

“That’s a great goal.” you said, taking a cup from Lily. “I’m Y/n, and this is Natasha. We live right across the street.”

“Are you married?” Lily asked innocently, and her question caught Natasha off guard. You laughed softly and glanced at Natasha. “Not yet, but maybe one day.” Natasha felt a warmth spread through her chest at your words. She had never thought about marriage before, but the idea didn’t seem so far-fetched now.

Lily nodded seriously, as if your answer made perfect sense. “You should be. You’re both really nice.” Natasha and you exchanged a look, both touched by the child’s innocent wisdom. You stayed with Lily for a few more minutes, chatting about her lemonade business and the dolls she wanted to buy. Natasha found herself relaxing more than she had in weeks, and the simple joy of the moment eased some of the tension she had been carrying.

As you said your goodbyes and headed back to your house, you took Natasha’s hand and intertwined your fingers. “She’s sweet, isn’t she?” Natasha nodded. “Yes, she is. She reminds me that there’s good in the world.” You squeezed her hand gently. “And that’s exactly what we’re fighting for.” Natasha smiled, feeling a sense of peace spread through her. In this quiet neighborhood, with you by her side and a little girl selling lemonade, she realized that maybe, just maybe, she had found a place where she truly belonged.

The days settled into a pleasant rhythm. Natasha and you looked forward to the moments when you would see Lily, her bright smile and cheerful energy a welcome addition to your lives. Often, you would stop by her lemonade stand, sometimes just to chat, and other times to enjoy the simple pleasure of a cold drink on a warm day.

One Saturday afternoon, you decided to take a walk through the nearby park. The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm light over the tree-lined paths. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, and the laughter of children echoed from a nearby playground. As you walked hand in hand, Natasha noticed a familiar figure in the distance. Lily was skipping along the path, holding hands with a woman who must have been her mother. The woman was tall and slender, with the same brown curls as Lily, though hers were tied up in a loose bun. She had a kind face, but Natasha couldn’t miss the weariness in her eyes.

You waved to them, and Lily’s face lit up when she recognized you. “Natasha! Y/N!” she called, pulling her mother along behind her. Natasha and you smiled as you approached, exchanging a warm greeting with the little girl. Lily’s mother smiled politely, but there was a slight tension in her posture, as if she were carrying a burden no one else could see. “Hello.” you said kindly. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Y/n, and this is Natasha.”

The woman nodded, a small, somewhat forced smile on her lips. “I’m Rachel. Lily talks about you two all the time. She’s always excited to see you.” Lily beamed up at her mother. “They’re my best customers!”

Natasha laughed, kneeling down to Lily’s level. “And you’re our favorite lemonade seller.” Lily giggled, clearly pleased with the attention. As Natasha stood back up, she noticed Rachel’s gaze flick nervously over her shoulder. She followed Rachel’s eyes and saw a man standing a few steps away, his hands deep in his pockets, watching them. He was tall and broad shouldered, his expression unreadable, but something about the way he looked at Rachel made Natasha uneasy.

Rachel’s smile faltered a little, and she quickly looked back at you and Natasha. “That’s Mark, my.. boyfriend." she said, her voice a little strained. Mark nodded in greeting, but his eyes never left Rachel. Natasha felt a wave of discomfort rising in her. She had spent years honing her instincts, learning to pick up on the smallest signs of danger, and right now, every instinct was telling her that something was off.

You, always attuned to Natasha’s moods, noticed the subtle shift in her posture. You glanced at her questioningly, but she gave a barely perceptible shake of her head. Not here, not now. “Are you headed to the playground?” you asked in a light, casual tone, trying to diffuse the tension. Rachel nodded, her grip on Lily’s hand tightening. “Yes, Lily loves the playground. We try to come on weekends.”

“That’s great..” you replied, smiling at Lily. “Maybe we’ll see you around more often.” Lily looked up at her mother eagerly. “Can we play with them, Mama? Please?” she asked, her eyes hopeful as she gazed at her Mama. But she hesitated, casting a nervous glance at Mark, who only gave a slight nod of his head. “Maybe another time, sweetheart. We need to head home soon.”

Lily pouted a little but didn’t argue, sensing her mother’s unease. “Okay…” she said softly. Natasha’s heart ached at the sight of the disappointed little girl. She wanted to ask Rachel if everything was okay, if there was anything they could do to help, but she knew better than to push. Instead, she gave Lily a reassuring smile. “We’ll see you soon, okay?” Lily nodded, her smile returning, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Okay! Bye, Natasha! Bye, Y/N!”

“Goodbye!” you called as you parted ways and continued down the path. As you walked further along the trail, Natasha’s thoughts kept circling back to what she had just witnessed. Something wasn’t right about the whole encounter, especially in the way Rachel and Mark interacted. It wasn’t just protectiveness or possessiveness in Mark’s eyes..there was something darker, something that set off alarm bells in Natasha’s mind.

You gently squeezed Natasha’s hand, pulling her out of her thoughts. “What’s wrong?” you asked quietly, your voice filled with concern. Natasha cast one last glance back in the direction where Rachel, Lily, and Mark had disappeared. “I’m not sure..” she said softly. “But I’m going to find out.”

You nodded, trusting Natasha’s instincts implicitly. “Do you think she’s in trouble?” Natasha didn’t answer right away. She was trying to piece together the puzzle in her head, figuring out what exactly had triggered her discomfort. “Maybe..” she finally said. “Or maybe I’m just being paranoid. But I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.”

You frowned, your worry growing. “If you think something’s wrong, we should do something. We can’t just ignore it.” Natasha nodded, her jaw setting in determination. “We won’t. But we have to be careful. If there’s really something going on, we don’t want to make it worse.” As you continued your walk, the warmth of the sun on your back, Natasha’s thoughts kept returning to Rachel and Lily. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the peace they had found in this quiet neighborhood was more fragile than it seemed. And if something threatened that peace, Natasha was ready to do whatever it took to protect the people she cared about.

The night was quiet and still, with the moon casting a soft, silver glow over the neighborhood. Natasha and you slept peacefully in your bed, your bodies nestled close together, the gentle sound of your breathing the only noise in the room. The calm of the night seemed to envelop you, offering a rare moment of complete tranquility.

But that peace was abruptly shattered by frantic knocking at the front door. Natasha was the first to stir, her finely tuned instincts kicking in immediately. In an instant, she was out of bed, pulling on a shirt as she moved, her senses on high alert. You were awake a second later, your heart racing at the sound.

“Natasha?” you called softly as you quickly threw something on as well. “Stay here,” Natasha instructed, but you followed her downstairs anyway.

The knocking at the door grew more desperate, and Natasha felt a cold fear settling in her stomach. She motioned for you to stay back as she approached the door, but the moment she heard the sobbing of a child, all caution was forgotten. She flung the door open to find Lily standing there, her face streaked with tears, her small body trembling in the cool night air.

“Lily!” you exclaimed in shock, immediately kneeling down to be at eye level with the girl. “Sweetheart, what happened? Why are you out here?” Lily looked up at you, her lip quivering, but she said nothing. She shook her head and took a small step back, as if afraid to enter the house.

Natasha’s heart broke at the sight of the terrified little girl. She knelt beside you, her voice gentle and calm. “Lily, it’s okay. You’re safe here. No one will hurt you.” But Lily’s eyes were still wide with fear, and she clung to her stuffed animal. She was trembling so much that she could barely stand.

You gently placed a hand on Lily’s arm. “You don’t have to be scared, Lily. You can tell us what happened. We just want to help.” For a moment, Lily seemed torn between her fear and her trust in the two of you. She glanced back at the dark street, her breath catching as if she were reliving whatever had driven her to your doorstep. Then, slowly, she took a hesitant step forward and allowed you to pull her into a warm embrace.

Lily buried her face in your shoulder, her small body shaking with silent sobs. “H-He was..he was so angry..?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Natasha exchanged a worried look with you, her protective instincts flaring. “Who was angry, Lily?” she asked gently, though she already had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Lily clung to you, her small hands gripping your shirt as if she were afraid to let go. She was crying so hard that she could barely breathe, her sobs coming in ragged gasps.

“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay..” you murmured, your voice soft and soothing as you held Lily close. You look at Natasha and don't know exactly what to do now. Natasha quickly stepped outside, her eyes scanning the dark street, searching for any signs of danger, but the neighborhood was eerily still. She turned back to you and Lily, her heart breaking at the sight of the frightened little girl.

“Lily, sweetheart, who was angry? Can you tell us?” Lily’s sobs began to subside, though she was still trembling. She buried her face in your shoulder again, her voice muffled and broken. “H-He hit Mommy! He kept hitting her. She told him to stop, but he wouldn’t stop…” Your grip around Lily tightened protectively, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Do you mean your mom’s friend? You did the right thing coming here, Lily.”

Lily sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Yes..her friend, and I remembered you said I could always come to you..” Natasha felt a surge of anger and protectiveness like she had never felt before. The thought of someone hurting this sweet little girl or her mother was unbearable. But she knew she needed to stay calm for Lily’s sake. She closed the door behind her and knelt down again.

“You were so brave, Lily." Natasha said softly, her voice steady. “You did the right thing. You’re safe now, I promise.” The little girl trembled and buried her face in your shoulder again. “I want my mommy..II want her to be okay..” You rocked her gently, your heart breaking at the thought of a child so young having to endure such fear. “We’re going to make sure your mommy is okay. We’re going to help her, and we’re going to help you.”

Natasha and you exchanged a determined look. You both knew that action needed to be taken. Natasha placed a hand on Lily’s back, trying to soothe her. “Lily, I’m going to go check on your mommy, okay? Y/n will stay here with you.”

Lily looked up at you with big, frightened eyes and clung even tighter to you. “No! Please don’t go! He’s still there! He’ll hurt you too!” Before Natasha could respond, Lily’s eyes widened with new fear. She clutched at you and began to scream in high-pitched tones. Natasha froze as she heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the porch too. The sharp smell of alcohol was the first thing she noticed, and she knew immediately who it was.

Mark.

Your face paled as you glanced toward the door, and Natasha quickly analyzed the situation. "Y/n, take her upstairs. I’ll handle this." You lifted Lily into your arms, her small face buried in your neck. "Please be careful, Natasha.."

Natasha nodded, not taking her eyes off the door. “Go.” The little girl clung to you tightly as you hurried up the stairs. Natasha positioned herself between the door and the stairs, her heart pounding in her chest as she prepared for what was about to happen. The door was thrown open with such force that it slammed against the wall. Mark stumbled into the house, his face red with anger, his eyes bloodshot and wild. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming, and Natasha’s stomach churned at the sight of him.

“Where is she?!” Mark slurred, his voice dripping with rage. “Where’s that little brat? She’s the one to blame for all of this!!” His eyes narrowed as he charged toward Natasha, his fists swinging wildly. But Natasha was faster. She dodged his attack effortlessly, grabbed his arm, and twisted it behind his back in one fluid motion. Mark cried out in pain, but Natasha didn’t loosen her grip.

“Let me go, you bitch!” Mark bellowed, struggling to free his arm from her grasp, but Natasha held him with iron strength. “You’re not going to get near that girl again." Natasha hissed, her voice low and dangerous. “You’ve done enough damage.” Mark fought against her hold, but it was futile. Natasha easily forced him to the ground and held him there. She could feel his muscles tense under her grip, but she didn’t relent.

Upstairs, you quickly brought Lily into the guest room and gently set her on the bed. “Lily, it’s okay. You’re safe here, understand? I’ll make sure of it.” Lily was still trembling, her eyes wide with fear. “Will he hurt Natasha?”

“No," you said firmly, though the fear for Natasha grew within you. "Natasha is very strong, and she’ll make sure he can’t hurt anyone anymore. But I need to make a call, okay? We need to call the police so they can help us.” Lily nodded hesitantly, curling up with her stuffed animal. You quickly pulled out your phone and dialed 911, your voice trembling slightly as you explained the situation to the dispatcher.

Downstairs, Natasha was still holding Mark down on the floor, her mind racing. She knew she needed to get Rachel and Lily out of this situation permanently, but for now, Mark was the immediate threat. The sound of sirens in the distance brought a sense of relief. Help was on the way. Mark groaned beneath her, still struggling weakly. “You..you can’t do this!! Who do you think you are?!”

Natasha leaned closer to him, her voice a deadly whisper. “Oh, watch me.” Minutes later, two police officers burst into the house. Natasha stood up and released Mark, the officers immediately moving to restrain him. He was still shouting, hurling curses and threats, but Natasha felt nothing but disgust as they hauled him to his feet. “Are you alright?” one of the officers asked as they led Mark out of the house.

“I’m fine." Natasha replied coolly. “But you should check on the mother across the street. I think she’s in bad shape.” The officer nodded seriously. “We’ll take care of it. Thank you for stepping in.” Natasha watched as they led Mark out of the house and closed the door behind them. The house was suddenly quiet again, but the tension in the air remained palpable. Natasha took a deep breath to calm her nerves before heading upstairs.

When she reached the guest room, she found you sitting on the bed next to Lily. The little girl had finally calmed down and was no longer crying. The sight of the vulnerable and frightened child made Natasha’s heart ache, but she forced herself to smile gently as she approached. “It’s over." Natasha said softly. “He’s gone.”

Lily looked up at her, her eyes still wet with tears. “Is my mommy okay?” Natasha knelt beside the bed, her voice gentle and reassuring. "The police are going to check on your mommy and make sure she's okay. And we're going to help you and your mommy, Lily. We won't let anyone hurt you again."

Lily nodded slowly, a small spark of hope appearing in her eyes. "Promise?" Natasha reached out and softly wiped away a tear from Lily's cheek. "I promise."

You wrapped your arm around Lily and pulled her close. "You're safe now, sweetheart. We'll take care of everything." As Lily finally began to relax in your arms, Natasha felt a deep determination rising within her. This wasn't the end of the situation, but it was the first step. She was going to do everything in her power to protect Lily and Rachel, no matter what it took.

The paramedics had just treated Rachel’s injuries, and the police were finishing their reports. The once peaceful night was now filled with quiet, official conversations, and the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles cast an eerie glow through the windows. Lily sat on the sofa between Natasha and you, her small body still trembling, and her large eyes reflected a mixture of fear and confusion.

Rachel sat nearby, her face marked with bruises, and her expression was exhausted. The weight of the night’s events had drained her, but her entire focus was on Lily, who was like a beacon of strength for her. One of the police officers approached Rachel, his tone professional but gentle. “Mrs. Dawson, under the circumstances, protocol requires that we place your daughter in temporary foster care until you are able to care for her again.”

Rachel’s already pale face turned even whiter, and she immediately shook her head, panic flashing in her eyes. “No! No, please, she can’t go into foster care.. She’s been through enough. Please, don’t take her away from me!”

Lily looked up in alarm at the officer’s words, her wide, frightened eyes turning to her mother. “Mama..I don’t want to go..” Instinctively, you put your arm around Lily and pulled her closer to you. Natasha’s expression darkened as she sensed the rising fear in Rachel and Lily. The thought of Lily being taken away, even temporarily, was unthinkable to you both. Not after everything the little girl had already endured.

Rachel looked at Natasha and you with desperation, her voice trembling with emotion. “Please..she can stay with you, right? You live right across the street. She knows you, she feels safe with you..please, don’t let them take her away.” The officer hesitated, visibly torn. “Ma’am, I understand your concern, but the safety of the child is our top priority. We need to ensure that she’s in a stable environment while you recover.”

Natasha stood up, her stance determined as she stepped forward. “She is in a stable environment. Right here, with us.” Her voice was calm but firm, with the tone of someone who wasn’t used to being questioned. You nodded, equally resolute. “We live right across the street. We’re neighbors and friends, and Lily trusts us. We can take care of her while Rachel is in the hospital. You can check in on her anytime.”

The officer looked between Natasha and you, clearly aware of who you both were. He sighed, knowing this wasn’t an easy decision. “Are you sure you can take on this responsibility? It could be several days, maybe longer.”

Natasha didn’t hesitate. “We’re sure. We’ll make sure she’s safe, and she’ll be close to her mother. That’s what’s best for her.” Rachel’s eyes filled with tears of relief as she reached for Lily’s hand. “Please, Officer.. don’t take her away from me. I can’t bear it. She’s been through enough already.” The officer exchanged a look with his colleague, then back at Natasha and you. After a brief pause, he nodded. “Alright. We’ll allow it, but we’ll need to conduct regular checks to ensure everything is going smoothly.”

Natasha nodded. “Of course. We’ll cooperate fully.” The officer turned to Rachel. “We’ll take you to the hospital now, Mrs. Dawson. You need to focus on your recovery.” Rachel nodded, tears streaming down her face as she turned to Lily. “Sweetheart, you’ll stay with Natasha and Y/n for a little while, okay? They’ll take good care of you.”

Lily, still clutching her stuffed animal, looked up at her mother, her voice trembling. “But..I-I want to stay with you, Mama..”

Rachel’s heart broke at her daughter’s words, but she forced herself to smile despite the pain. “I know, darling. And I want to stay with you too. But I need to get better first, so I can be with you again. Natasha and Y/n will take care of you, and I’ll be very close by, okay?” Lily nodded slowly, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Okay..but promise me you’ll come back soon?”

Rachel’s voice cracked as she leaned down and kissed Lily’s forehead. “I promise, sweetheart. I’ll come back as soon as I can.” You gently took Lily’s hand in yours, your voice soft and reassuring. “Let’s go home, Lily. We’ll make you some hot chocolate and get you to bed, okay?” Lily nodded again, her small hand gripping yours tightly. She gave her mother one last look, and Rachel smiled encouragingly through her tears and nodded to her.

As the paramedics helped Rachel to her feet and escorted her out of the house, you and Natasha led Lily back across the street to your home. The little girl was quiet, her mind clearly processing everything that had happened. You carried her into the living room and set her on the sofa while Natasha locked the door and made sure the house was secure.

Inside, you knelt in front of Lily and gently wiped away a stray tear from her cheek. “You’re so brave, Lily. Your Mama is going to get better, and we’ll take care of you until then. You’re safe here with us.” Natasha sat down beside Lily on the sofa. “We’ll make sure you stay close to your Mommy, and we’ll visit her as soon as she’s feeling better. But for now, we’re here for you.”

Lily looked up at both of you, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and trust. “Okay..but can we visit her tomorrow?” You smiled, your heart filled with love for the little girl. “We’ll try, sweetheart. Let’s get through the night first, and then we’ll see what we can do tomorrow.” Natasha gently stroked Lily’s hair, feeling a strong protective instinct for the child who had already been through so much. “We’re here for you, Lily. You’re not alone.”

In the quiet of the night, as Lily finally fell asleep in the next room, you and Natasha shared a silent moment of reflection. You had stepped into this role out of necessity, but now it felt like more. You were no longer just neighbors or friends; you were a family, brought together by circumstances and bound by love. And as long as you had each other, you knew you could face any challenges that lay ahead.

The visit to the hospital the next day went as well as could be hoped for in such a situation. Lily clung to her mother, her small body finally relaxing in the comforting arms of Rachel, and Rachel, though bruised and exhausted, smiled brighter than Natasha and you had ever seen. There was still a long road ahead of them, but the worst seemed to be over.

Three days later, Rachel was discharged. As the evening wore on, you and Natasha returned home, your house now quieter without Lily’s youthful energy. The night had gently fallen over the neighborhood, and a sense of calm finally settled in after the emotional whirlwind of the past few days. After getting ready for bed, you found yourselves lying close together, the soft light of the bedside lamp casting a warm glow over the room. Your hands were intertwined, both of you lost in thought.

You broke the silence first, your voice gentle. “You were amazing with Lily, Nat. You really helped her through something so terrible.” Natasha turned her head slightly to look into your eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. “I just wanted to make sure she was safe. She’s a strong little girl, but no one should have to go through what she did.”

You nodded, your gaze softening as you brushed a strand of hair from Natasha’s face. “You have such a strong protective instinct. That’s one of the things I love most about you.” Natasha’s smile faded a little, and she looked away, her eyes clouded with memories she rarely let surface. You, always sensitive to her moods, hesitated before speaking again.

“Nat..h-have you ever thought about..starting a family of our own?” you asked quietly, your voice filled with both hope and caution. Natasha held her breath for a moment, feeling her heart tighten. She had always known this conversation would come eventually, but now that you had voiced it, it felt even more real. She took a deep breath before answering, her voice calm but tinged with deep pain.

“You know that I…The Red Room made sure that..” Your heart aching at the thought of all the horrors Natasha had endured, and the irreversible damage done to her body. It was a subject Natasha rarely spoke about, and you had always respected that, never pushing, because you knew how deeply the pain ran. “I know, Nat.." you said softly, holding her hand a little tighter. “But..family doesn’t have to be just biological. Look at what we’ve done for Lily in just a few days. You were there for her like a mother would be. And I think..I think you’d make an incredible mom. And..if it’s okay to say this..But what if I get pregnant?”

Natasha looked into your eyes, her green eyes reflecting the inner battle she was fighting. “But what if..what if I can’t do it? What if I can’t be what a child needs? I’ve spent my whole life fighting, Y/n. I’m not sure I even know how to be..normal.”

You smiled, leaning in to give her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “You don’t have to be anything other than yourself, Natasha. That’s exactly why I love you. And being parents doesn’t mean we have to be perfect. It means loving, protecting, and doing our best.” Natasha’s heart ached with a mix of longing and fear. The thought of having a family, of creating something good and whole out of the broken pieces of her past, was both terrifying and tempting. But as she looked into your eyes, she felt a warmth, a hope she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time.

“Do you really think we could do it?” Natasha asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. You nodded, your eyes shining with love and certainty. “Yes, I do. And we’d do it together, just like we do everything else. We don’t have to decide right now, but..I wanted you to know that I’ve been thinking about it. And I would want to do it with you.”

Natasha was silent for a long moment, letting the idea settle in her heart. It was a difficult topic, one that opened old wounds, but your unwavering support gave her the courage to at least consider it. Finally, Natasha nodded slightly, her grip on your hand tightening just a little. “Maybe..maybe one day. I don’t know if I’m ready yet, but..I’d like to think about it. With you.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with even more love for the woman beside you. “That’s all I could ever want, Nat..Everything in its own time.” The two of you lay there in silence for a while, holding each other close, the weight of the conversation gradually giving way to a deep, comforting sense of connection. Outside, the night was quiet and peaceful, and inside, in the warmth of your love, the future seemed a little less daunting. As Natasha closed her eyes, feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat under her hand, she allowed herself to dream of a future where the two of you could build a family together. It was a new and unfamiliar dream, but with you by her side, it no longer seemed impossible. And with you beside her, she knew you could face whatever the future had in store for you both.

-

-

-

🤧🤧🤧🤧

[veryberryjelly]

🍸 + Dick Grayson with prompt no.58 with his fem!reader pls 🫶

dick grayson x reader

lyrics ; ' says random 'i love you's throughout the day ' [ lowkey wayne family adventures style dick more than titans ]

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 !

you had spent the night at wayne manor before, but never had you spent more than three days there.

and now you were spending two weeks in dick's childhood bedroom because your apartment building was being fumigated.

you were currently sat on the floor of dick's childhood bedroom, your clothes spilling out of a suitcase as you searched for something to wear in your underwear.

when the door opened your instinct was to cover yourself with whatever you could find considering that jason had walked in on you in your underwear last week.

but when you spotted the familiar sight of your boyfriends muscular arms and bare chest, his hands full of two mugs.

" morning " he said as he offered one out to you, sitting himself down on the desk chair after he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

" morning " you replied, your heart warming as you turned to face him, abandoning the task of finding an outfit. " i miss our apartment " you lamented, leaning back against his closet as you took a sip of the warm drink.

" i know, me too. as much as i love you, you have a lot of stuff that needs to go back in your closet. "

his joke let a soft laugh fall from your lips. if it weren't for dick you weren't sure how you would be handling this.

you stood from the floor, setting your coffee down on his desk before sitting down on his lap, your arms looping around his neck while his dropped down to your waist.

" just a few more days and we'll be back in our bed, and we won't have to worry about locking doors anymore " his teasing let another round of laughs echo against the bedroom walls.

--- ⎉ ---

staying at wayne manor definitely came with its positives, including the huge kitchen you could use to make your meals.

the huge fridge and vast counter space made it easy to make slightly more elaborate meals.

including making your own pesto for your sandwich and for the rest of the house to use if they so pleased.

you were mid way through cutting up some basil when a pair of arms wrapped around your torso, halting your movements so you didnt injure yourself or him by being distracted with a blade in your hand.

you spun in his grip, your arms lifting to wrap around his neck as your head tilted back to look at him.

" how was your workout ?" you questioned, noting his much sweatier appearance than when he had left you this morning.

" good, tiring, kicked jasons ass. " a laugh reverberated through his chest causing a smile to spread on your lips. " what're you doing ?"

" making pesto for lunch. you want a sandwich ?"

his response came in the form of his head dropping down to press a short kiss to your lips.

" please. i'm gonna shower, but i'll be back before you finish "

another kiss to your lips before his hands started to pull back from your waist.

" i love you " he whispered.

" i love you too. now go shower, you smell "

--- ⎉ ---

as the day wound down, and the manor emptied with bat boys going on patrol around dothan city, you found yourself exploring the building as you did every night.

so far, your favourite place was the balcony on a guest room on the top floor of the house. it was quiet, you could see the forest surrounding the manor, and so far every night you had been lounging there, dick had pulled himself up over the balcony after patrol to greet you.

tonight was no different.

you had been lounging on a woven chair with some music playing from your phone as you watched the trees sway gently in the breeze.

hands clasping at the metal railing made you jump out of your skin, your hand shooting up to clutch at your chest.

" jesus, dick. what the hell? you scared the shit out of me " you could feel your pulse racing under your fingertips.

" sorry sweetheart " he said as he sat down on the accompanying deck chair to yours, peeling his mask off of his face and dropping it down on the table. " thought i'd tell you that we can go back to the apartment tomorrow. they've finished fumigating. got the message when i was out on patrol "

your shoulders sagged in relief.

" thank god. " you practically groaned, standing from your chair and draping yourself across the practically solid surface of dick's thighs, curling into his form. " baby, i love you, and your family. but i dont think i could've lasted past tonight. i want to go to sleep tomorrow night in my underwear and not have to worry about scarring your brothers "

" they've seen much worse, baby, dont worry. "

[multifandomfanatic02]

"One-Sided, One Receiver"

pairing: alastor x fem!reader

synopsis: Alastor has taken you in under his wing after being mistreated by the vees. Vox tries to confronts you about your feelings for Alastor in hopes that you come back to work for him. His plans of course backfire.

warnings: MDNI fuckin tentacle porn, alastor is fully clothed, no pp for you to see sorry, alastor and his dirty mouth, praise kink ig? fingering

word count: 1.7k words

a/n: my first time writing this kinda thing, please spare me. Also thank you to @rubra-wav for the cute divider omg. and my two favorite in character smut authors @hazelfoureyes (my hazel basil) and @jyoongim giving me the courage to do this ✨️🙏

You've worked with Alastor going on years now. He had taken you under his wing after the treatment you received under the control of the Vees. It was well known they weren't the nicest overlords around but they knew how to sell.

You were Vox's little plaything in more ways than one. He had you pegged to be a pretty good spy and information gatherer. Of course, your mission was always to look for signs of the Radio Demon for his whereabouts. Alastor was very meticulous and every clue left for you was purposely placed, and you knew that. And because you knew that, you never bothered to inform Vox of the very little "information." In which came at a cost of your job and nearly, your life. Vox often underestimated Alastor's smarts. Their own egos constantly bumping each other in the head.

The night you lost your job, you were found outside the Vees' tower, horribly bruised and broken. Hands clutching at the brimstone dirt to try and stable yourself in some way, you saw a pair of black boots standing in front of your face, the demon's cane setting down on the ground.

"Well my dear, it looks like you finally received Vox's boot." He chuckled in amusement and offered a hand to you to help you off the ground. "I'm impressed with how you've gone about finding my little clues, not many have managed to connect them back to me."

With your hand still in his, you two disappear into his shadow and find solitude in a different part of Pentagram City, away from the Vees' territory.

"I have a deal for you. Well rather a job." He states conjuring up a needle and glowing green thread along with a small first-aid kit. He talked his way through his prompt while mending and sewing your wounds. You accepted and that was that.

The years you've worked along side him he's been quite kind to you. Despite not trying to be, he was a charmer. Your feelings for him changed over time. You often caught yourself doing things you never thought you would for the Radio Demon. The man you were convinced to hate in your previous employment. You'd bend over backward for him if you could.

The role he gave you was to do exactly what you had done for Vox in the past. There was never need to leave his side for you to gather whatever information he needed so you never looked suspicious. You looked more like an assistant or an apprentice.

No matter what you looked like you were doing, Vox was deeply displeased. How dare you escape his grasp and go kiss Alastor's ass. It was insulting from both you and the Radio Demon.

There was more to your companionship that meets the eye. While Alastor was an oblivious man, Vox saw right through you. It was clear to him you had fallen in love with the radio demon. And with the way Alastor has reacted to confessions in the past, the TV man knew exactly how to ruin your relationship with each other and potentially along with the contract that was signed.

Checkmate.

"What are you doing here, old pal. Don't you think you are on the wrong side of town." Alastor's body was facing away, Vox's presence clear from his heavy breathing. His attempt to stay calm and collected.

"I am here to offer Y/N's job back." He stood up straight, folding his arms behind his back and turning his unfazed gaze to you. "I'm willing to raise your pay by a substantial amount if you come back to me."

"Not a chance, Vox. After the way you and the other Vees treated me? Go to double Hell." You spat at him, your eyes full of disgust and turning your body away from him.

Vox's smile creeped further up the screen, wholeheartedly expecting that to be your answer. The wrong answer. The one to ruin you once again.

"You come back to work for me and I won't tell Alastor your dark little secret. You get to stay in his good graces and I get my favorite little employee." He held his hand out to you. Alastor's silence completely deafening as he zones in on the strange conversation. What could you possibly do to fall out of his good graces, he thought.

Your expression faltering slightly before returning to it's stability. Was it that obvious? Did everyone see your feelings like an open book? He was unfortunately right.. if Alastor knew how you felt he'd probably ditch for another 7 years. Either way the outcome of this would be you trapped in the hands of the Vees once more. "You're confused Vox. I think you should take a break from all that porn."

"Do not pretend to not know what I'm talki-"

"I think I've heard enough, Vox. If you are referring to her romantic feelings towards me, there's no need to inform me. I already know." Alastor finally stepped out from behind you to stand in between the two of you. "The only difference here is that she has not forced those feelings upon me in which I quite respect. She will not be going with you."

Alastor tapped his cane on your back to turn you around and continue your walk. You give one last glance at Vox behind you, his face obviously fuming in embarrassment before disappearing into Alastor's shadow with him and reappearing in front of the Hotel.

You two stood in front of the doors in silence. Not really awkward just a little stunned.

"Sir.. you knew?" Your head was looking down to his shoes, scared to look him in the eyes.

"Dear, do not be embarrassed." He placed his cane under your chin, watching your eyes shift from the ground to his own. "I'm willing to make another deal with you if you allow it. This will be a one time thing. One night of your pleasure and you will give me your soul. Your services will belong to me for the rest of your immortal life."

Not to long after that were you in his radio tower. His shadowy appendages wrapped around your ankles and wrists, your ass resting on the buttons of his desk. You were already in the nude and he still sharply dressed. "Let's get a few things clear, darling. You will not touch me whatsoever, no I will not remove my clothing-" He spoke in the midst of taking his coat off and hanging it up on the hook to the side of the desk. He carefully rolled up the sleeves to his dress shirt before turning his attention to you, continuing his sentence. "and do remember to make noise. I need this to be amusing for me as well."

The appendages snaked up your thighs, softly maneuvering themselves through your folds. Spreading your slick everywhere they could reach. Your shut eyes tightened underneath his delicate touch. Another pair of his tentacles made their way up to your face, pulling at the sides of your mouth, making you open your lips. One slipped inside your wet cavern, lapping up the saliva around your tongue. Moans now starting to slip out as it started to fuck your mouth, spit dripping down the corners of your lips.

"Now that's my good girl." Alastor's cold digits made their way to your clit, rubbing in rhythmic circles, eliciting a well earned gasp from your throat. Not rough enough to jump start an orgasm but enough to be quite pleasurable on it's own. What pretty sounds he thought. Your legs tensed at his praise, his voice. It was deeper and more staticy than normal. Seemed he was enjoying himself more than he'd like to admit.

Removing the tentacle in your mouth, he replaced it with his own mouth. Your heart fluttered at the way he moved his lips against yours. Not exactly how you fantasized your first kiss with the Radio Demon but you'll take it. You groaned into his lips, grinding your hips into his steady going fingers. "Alastor.. please. I need you inside me." Heavy breaths passed between each word that escaped your mouth. This was your part of the deal so he was willing to give you whatever you wanted. Within reason of course.

The extremity wet with your juices slid up and down your cunt, spreading you as much as possible before slipping into you with ease. It wasn't his dick but dear god did it feel good nonetheless. Some boundaries had to be made after all but you were grateful for his generosity no matter what he offered. It's pace started off slow, simply trying to make it's way to your cervix before anything else. His lips still continuing to massage yours, going back and forth between licking your neck and kisses.

He was making every piece of your body vibrate with excitement and pleasure. Alastor's pace speeding up once he finally hit the end of your vagina, nearly making love to your cervix. His fingers began to abuse your now sensitive clit. It didn't take long before that long awaited tightness started to form in your womb. Your breath hitched and various parts of your body twitched, letting him know that you were approaching your end. "Are you going to cum for me, my dear? My precious apprentice."

With one last bite to your shoulder, you came undone on his tentacle and fingers. Continuing to rub you through your high. Your head rested against his shoulder allowing you to control your breaths back to normal. All his dark restraints dissipated, letting you free.

Alastor licked his fingers clean and rolled his sleeves back down, grabbing the coat he hung up and placing it back onto his shoulders. "Now I do believe you need a bath. Feel free to use the one in my room. Be back down stairs in an hour, we've got business to attend to later."

And with that, you now belonged to him in heart and soul.

[bonesandchalamet]

predictable - c.fisher

masterlist

requested: y- “Can you do a conrad fisher x reader where the readers family has a house next to theirs so they grew up going to cousins for the summers (cons age), and they are in love w each other but don’t want to admit it and everyone notices it around them/teases them. maybe a flash ward to their wedding in a couple of years and everyone’s speeches are like “yeah i won the bet they would be married by now” or smth like that?“

pairings: conrad fisher x fem!reader

warnings: fluff + jokes

a/n: I hope I did this justice anon! xx there are NO spoilers of book 2 or season 2!

you can hear his voice. it’s muffled, he sounds like he’s in your kitchen, a blessing of having the bedroom right above it, but you can hear him talking to your mother.

you don’t have time to think, you just fling your legs over your mattress and rush down the stairs at an appropriate pace. you’d just woke up, maybe not your best state to be in, but you couldn’t wait to see conrad fisher. the boy next door.

he’d gone to Princeton, smart cookie if you say so yourself, and you hadn’t seen him since last summer. in fact, you only saw him maybe once or twice outside of the neighborhood and that was getting ice cream and groceries. other than that, you live by the fence that separates your yards waiting to hear the laughter and conversations from the Conklin and fisher kids.

“just tomatoes? are you sure? I can go pick out some basil—“

“no, no laurel will kill you if you do any more yard work! I can get it.” you hear conrad protest. the fisher family was used to your parents generosity, the beautiful vegetable garden grew right on the fisher/y/l/n house line, the family was more than welcome to eat and take whatever they wanted, but it didn’t stop them from being kind enough to ask. Susannah raised those boys right.

“are you sure?”

“what’s going on?” you ask, it’s like the words floated out of you when you saw him. his brown hair a little longer than normal, his t-shirt a bit smaller on him, and he’s wearing small navy blue swim trunks. a sight to make any girl swoon for a fisher.

“oh, y/n, do you think you can help conrad get some more tomatoes from the vines? it seems to be the fisher-Conklin clan has run out.” your mother hands you Susannah’s woven basket that conrad was once holding. your mother looks at you with pleading eyes but she knows you’ll do anything that has conrad fisher involved.

“happy to.” you take the basket in your hand and gesture for conrad to follow. he thanks your mother once again and follows along out the back door. you can hear not only just your heartbeat, but the blood rushing to your ears.

being alone with Conrad was sometimes awkward. at least to you it always felt that way, because you never knew how to be around him as yourself. you were so deeply in love with him that just being in his presence was enough to make you fumble over your words.

“here I can get the tomatoes.” conrad pushes past you, his shoulder brushing against your body, you could smell his cologne, the salty ocean in his hair, and the mixture of the laundry detergent Susannah uses. it was an intoxicating smell, one to make your world spin.

“you sure? they are kind of all over the place.” you chuckle setting the basket down into the grass. you start picking the beautiful blush red ones and gently place them in the basket along side the ones conrad was picking. every so often your hands would brush or you’d about pick the same tomato. you both would blush and apologize instantly for the connection.

“would you guys just kiss already! you’re making me nauseous.” Jeremiah calls over the fence line from the pool, he’s watched about every embarrassing second of you and his brothers interactions.

“come on, con!” Steven hollers, it’s loud enough for the neighbors on the other side of their house to snicker at the boys energy for far too early in the morning.

“I don’t know what their problem is.” Conrad says and it’s only for you two to hear. he’s picked up the basket from the grass now, you’re stuck with holding a few more tomatoes that he claims would be more than enough for everyone.

“no seriously, just keep those ones.”

“we have enough inside, just take them—“

“fine,” he huffs out an annoyed sigh and watches you dump them into the basket, “can I at least make you breakfast with them?”

“sounds like a plan to me.”

that day, he made you more than breakfast. he made you feel the most indescribable feeling of love and excitement. he left you walking home as beat red as those tomatoes you picked. you could thank Steven and Jeremiah for their pressure and tease, because conrad fisher did in fact kiss you that morning.

—

FUTURE

“I’m so happy for these guys because today I became twenty dollars richer,” Jeremiah pauses, the laughter of friends and family make you both blush, “so thank you Steven for believing they would never get married. here’s to the bride and the groom!” Jeremiah holds his champagne glass up, others in the room follow.

“you really bet we would get married?” Conrad turns to his brother who passes the microphone to belly before sitting down beside him.

Jeremiah’s hands clap his brothers shoulder, “we also made a bet that you’d kiss her that summer. belly also made a bet that you’d have tomatoes on the menu, looks like you guys are the most predictable couple ever.”

[theonewiththefanfics]

Robbery of a Heart (one-shot)

Synopsis: Robberies are never fun to deal with. Unless it's a certain chef that steals your heart. That is something that can be gotten behind. Real robberies - not so much.

Pairing: Carmen (Carmy; Bear) Berzatto x fem!Reader

Genre: primarily fluff, maybe a bit of angst

Warnings: robbery, mentions of blood, stitches, wounds, swearing, mentions of suicide, minimally edited

Word count: 4041

Calling in just a couple of hours before the opening shift where Y/N should be on her way to help out, was the last thing she wanted to do. In fact, all she wanted was to make her coffee and have her usual bagel with cream cheese, tomatoes and basil before heading out the door and getting to The Bear. Instead, she was stuck in her apartment, with medics and police officers, as well as some concerned neighbours all around.

           Y/N huffed, her leg bouncing up and down as the paramedic finally snipped the ends of the bandages and told her to take it easy for the next few days and to go to the hospital in a week’s time.

           The clock glared at her from her peripheral, counting down the minutes to when her alarm would blare.

           Fuck! Why the fuck did this have to happen on a night when she had a shift the next morning!?

           She dragged a hand down her face when the cops and the medics finally left.

           Mrs Hanover from the third floor gave her a tight smile. “You’ll be okay, sweetie?”

           “I’ll be alright.” Y/N gave her an appreciative hug. “Thanks. Just – just gonna get some more rest.”

           “You do that,” the older woman patted her cheek. With one more backwards glance and a reassuring wave from Y/N, her apartment was vacated.

           Instantly, she latched the new locks, put the chain on and placed a chair underneath the door handle. No more surprises, not after that night.

           Plopping herself down on the couch, Y/N craned her neck back and stared at the ceiling. It was still dark outside, as it usually was when she returned home and more often than not nowadays, when she left for work.

She’d just close her eyes for a moment. Just a moment.

           But the exhaustion and withdrawal from the adrenaline hit her like a brick, and, before Y/N knew it, she was out completely, even with the big living room lights still on. An hour and a half later though, she was startled by the tone of her alarm ringing from her room.

           The panic from the sound was much like when she’d first heard the broken lamp smash to the ground earlier in the night. Y/N’s heart instantly picked up, a hot and cold wave rushing through her veins as she snapped her head from one side to the other, but when she noted the door was closed, the chair still tightly underneath it, checked the closed windows and surveyed her closet and bathroom for anyone who might be hiding inside, Y/N finally found her phone on the floor between the duvet and the cover, turning the alarm off.

           Usually, it would take her an hour to get ready, but she knew that it would be impossible for her to concentrate that day. Opening the screen, she went to her caller list and looked at the top number. One she’d called just that evening when entering her apartment before the big shitshow had gone down.

           Y/N stared down at her phone, the name “Carmy :)” staring right back at her for like twenty minutes before she abandoned the idea of contacting him. Maybe Sydney? But Syd would also flip her shit if she told what had happened. In the end, she settled on Richie. They had a sort of camaraderie going on, but he was the kind of person she knew would take Carmy’s well-being over hers. They butted heads, swore and almost beat up each other, but Y/N knew, Richie loved his cousin.

           She let out a shaky breath as the tone beeped, and then finally, after an agonizing wait, she heard his gruff voice pick up with a “the fuck you want?”

           “Hi Richie,” Y/N stuttered. “I - umm - I need to take today off.”

           “Seriously, Y/N?” he scoffed. “Do you know what time it is?"

           Her breathing was stuttered. “I just – I – shit!” she dragged a hand down her face. “Richie please, just do me a solid, okay? Just tell Carmy I’m sick, and I need today off.”

           “Well, you don’t sound fucking sick, so might telling me why you actually need today off?”

           Y/N worried her lip before saying, “You have to promise me you won’t tell Carmen this.”

           For a moment, it got very quiet on Richie’s end. She heard some shuffling and then a door thudded closed. He was probably in the freezer.

           “Why don’t you want me telling cousin why you’re not coming in?”

           “Richie-“

           “No,” he interrupted her. “You either tell me, or I’m coming over to yours.”

           “Jesus fucking Christ, fine!” she huffed. “I - uh. I sort of got robbed last night, well, this morning, I guess.”

“You got what?!”

“Richie!” she heard Carmy bellow from the other side of the phone even through the closed freezer door while she shushed the man.

“Please just don’t tell Carmen,” Y/N rushed out. “He’ll just worry himself sick, okay? I just need today off, and I’ll be back on track tomorrow.”

“No,” Richie argued. “He has to know!”

“Please don’t! This is the last thing he needs, besides I’m alright, okay? The cops were here,  the locksmith already changed the locks and added a chain as well. Just,” she let out a long sigh. “Just please have my back here. I’ll owe you one.”

“Fuck!” Richie kicked at something, and a bucket or whatever crashed in the background. “Fine. Fine! But are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” Y/N said. “Just a bit shaken up. As I said – the locks have already been changed, so I’m good.”

           There was indistinct grumbling from his side before Richie conceded. “If you say so.”

           “I do.” Y/N released a big breath. “Again – I’m sorry. But I’ll be back on track tomorrow.”

           “Just – just take care of yourself, kid. I – shit! Okay… I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See ya, Richie,” and with that, the call disconnected.

But she wasn’t good. Not really. What she hadn't told Richie and why she’d begged him not to say anything to Carmen, was that during that robbery, she’d gotten injured.

The robber hadn’t thought she’d been home, that anyone was home, and usually, that was true, with Y/N staying way past closing time at The Bear, but Carmen had insisted she go home earlier and get a proper night's rest for once.

They’d had a scuffle, and the man had grabbed one of Y/N’s knives, swinging at her, cutting a large gash right on her forearm. Luckily, that had been the extent of her injuries apart from when he’d pushed her into the table while running away. But she knew, if Carmy saw the stitches, the bandages, he’d flip his shit.

Y/N sat back down on the couch.

What a fucking night that had been.

She barely had any energy to do the basic things like eat and drink water, and her arm had started to massively hurt, so cleaning up the mess left behind by the robber was a complete bitch. By the time noon came, and her stomach grumbled for some food, she could only pop in some toast and put some slices of cheese on top, not even bothering to grill it.

There was a flat bottle of Coke in the fridge, filling the glass only halfway, but Y/N didn’t have the strength for anything else. She just wanted to sleep and forget about what had happened, about the terror coursing through her veins when the man had tried to charge at her, whether to simply restrain her or… or something worse. About how had it not been for the cat living in the flat above which had gotten in through her open living room window from the fire escape and jumped and scratched at the intruder, Y/N would have never gotten the chance to make a run for it.

She’d been by the door when the unmistakable sound of the drawer being pulled open made her throw one glance behind her shoulder.

Usually, Y/N liked the gleams of her knives. She kept them polished, and sharp so that every cut, and slice, and stroke was perfect. But now, all she saw was a murder weapon. One that would end her life.

He charged at her again, and she’d ducked down, right arm raised in defence as the robber slashed. Then her neighbours broke down the door. The ones from two floors down while the robber pushed her into the side of a table, an edge hitting her gut hard enough to leave her in a breathless heap on the floor.

While she lay on the ground, coddling her wounds, Mrs Hanover, the one who’d heard the ruckus happening above her own living room, had rushed to get the burly couple for help, and stroked her back as they dealt with the intruder.

The two men restrained the robber. One of them was a personal trainer, the other a bodybuilder (it’s how they’d actually met and fell in love with one another), and sometimes Y/N would help them build meal plans and actually make them taste out new recipes. She’d never been gladder to have taken that one invite when she’d first moved in for a Friday wine night.

Mrs Hanover had called the cops and the medics, but no one left until the robber had been handcuffed and the paramedics had checked Y/N over. Then, it was back to their own beds.

Except the fear remained.

And the sudden knocks at the door in that moment, didn’t help either.

Her daydreaming had basically taken away her whole day, as she glanced at the window, and the sun was setting over Chicago.

With a groan and a pained hiss, Y/N got up from the couch.

It was probably the guys, coming to check on her.

But when she removed the chair and unlocked the door, the chain still on, she reminded herself to look through the peephole.

It wasn’t the guys from 2B. It was the last guy she wanted to see that day.

Carmy lifted his free hand, the other holding a takeout bag, and knocked again.

Y/N stood still behind the door, not even daring to breathe too loudly.

He shuffled around a bit, an unsure gaze thrown at the entrance.

“Leave,” she begged. “Please go, Carmy.”

Y/N didn’t have the energy, she didn’t want to tell him what’d happened. She hoped Richie hadn’t spilled the beans, but whatever he’d told Carmen, hadn’t been enough to stop him from worrying.

He raised his hand again and rapped it against the door. “Y/N?” this time he called out. “Richie told me you’re sick. Something about pneumonia or a lung infection?”

Of fucking course! Y/N cursed Carmen’s cousin. Pneumonia! Couldn’t he have told him she had a cold? Of course, pneumonia would send him running to hers. She thanked her lucky stars she’d changed into something with long sleeves to cover the bandages at least.

Y/N waited for a few more seconds before removing the chain and opening the door.

Carmy’s face pretty much lit up, a soft smile blooming on his lips as he looked at her.

“Hey, Y/N. You alright?”

“Hey, Bear.” She smiled back at him and nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. Richie is a fucking drama queen. I have the sniffles, not fucking pneumonia. You didn’t have to come running.”

Carmen simply shrugged. “Well, Richie seemed pretty worried. And I brought some food.” He raised the paper bag where a delicious scent wafted from, and not only did Y/N’s nose agree, but so did her stomach, eliciting a loud rumble. Carmy smiled upon hearing that. “Thought you might not have the energy to cook.”

Oh, he had no idea.

She sighed and rubbed at her neck, giving him a tight-lipped grimace, she hoped passed for a smile. “Thanks, Bear.”

As Carmy lifted the bag for her to take he paused, not letting go even when Y/N had grabbed the handle.

“I do have a question though – why did you unlock the door, but not let me in?”

Busted. So fucking busted.

“Umm,” she stammered while Carmen started to take steps closer to her, Y/N retreating inside her apartment as he followed. He closed the door with a small thud.

“In fact,” he placed the bag on the floor, crossing his arms. “I think what Richie and, in turn what you said to him, is complete and utter bullshit. You’re not sick. But something is very wrong.”

“No,” Y/N shook her head automatically. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just as I said – Richie is too dramatic for his own good.”

Carmen let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Look, I don’t know what kind of an idiot you take me for, but I know you. And I can see in your face, that something is amiss, so just please,” now his voice was pleading, eyes begging. “Please tell me what is going on with you? I was worried sick today, thinking that maybe you needed to go to the hospital, but no one was there for you. So, please, Y/N…”

And the way he said her name, so full of desperation, of care, she almost caved, but no. She couldn’t possibly put that sort of stress on him.

“I’m okay,” she whispered.

“No, you’re not, I can see it in your face. Please, Y/N,” and then he made a mistake.

He grabbed at her forearm, and before she could move it away from his touch, his roughened palm had wrapped around the wound. The squeeze was meant to be comforting, but in that moment, it was anything but.

Y/N whimpered in pain, and the second the sound came out of her mouth, Carmy took a horrified step back. And just her luck as well – she’d started bleeding through the bandages and the sweatshirt, which he obviously noticed.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head. “I cut myself really bad, that’s all.”

“Bullshit,” his words were snappy. “You don’t cut yourself like that unless you’re running around and tripping with a knife or deliberately do such a thing.” Something flashed in his eyes, and Y/N didn’t like that look one bit. “Or unless someone else cut you.”

She scoffed, taking a step back and casting her eyes to the ground. “It was an accident, okay? Needed to get some stitches, which is why I asked Richie to tell you I’d be out today. I didn’t know how long it would take in the ER.”

Carmy’s steps came closer, as he tried to take her palm, but Y/N wrapped her uncut arm around the bicep of her other one, turning her head to the side so as to not look at him.

“Hey, don’t do that.” Carmen’s voice was soft. “Please don’t do that, okay? I’m worried. What happened?”

“I told you, -,”

“No, you didn’t,” he insisted. “You lied to me, and I’d like to know why. I’d also like to know why you made Richie lie -”

“I got robbed, okay!?” the words exploded out of her mouth before she could push them behind her teeth.

           That made him take a physical step back, eyes instantly shooting around to survey her apartment. She was a messy person as is, but there, by the corner where the fridge was, was the chair she’d rested against the door, and still on the ground pieces of broken glass shone when looking at it from an angle, and oh god, she’d forgotten to clean up all the blood, some of the droplets having dried down to a russet tone, like a dalmatian’s spots on the white tiles.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he seemed genuinely hurt when he finally spoke up. “Did you, what? Think I’d make you come in?”

“Of course not! I didn’t want this reaction though! I didn’t want you to worry!”

“Of course, I’m gonna worry! God, even if you have a stupid fucking cold I’m gonna worry!”

“Well, don’t! I’m fine!”

“You were injured!”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I get cut at work all the time.”

“No, you got cut by someone who intended to do you harm. What if it was worse?” Carmen’s breath got stuck in his chest. “What if he’d hurt you worse? I – I can’t –,”

“But he didn’t okay?” Y/N softened her tone, seeing a wave of panic rush over Carmy. “He didn’t, alright. Yes, I have a few stitches now, and will probably have a long scar, and it hurts like an absolute bitch, but he didn’t hurt me any worse than that.”

           “Yes, but what if he had?” Carmy took her by the shoulders. “What if you had ended up with your head hurt? What if he’d stabbed you? What if,” he choked on his words, silver slowly lining the bottom of his eyes. “What if you ended up dead?”

           That made Y/N shut up completely, her lips pressed hard in a thin line.

           She knew about Michael. Of course, she did. She knew, he’d left Carmy The Beef after he’d committed suicide, and how many internal scars Carmen had because of it. Knowing she’d now added to that pain, made Y/N physically ill.

           “Do – do you not trust me like that?” His thumbs gently brushed her biceps. “Just – I don’t –,” he took a moment and collected himself. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me you went through something like that…”

           “Carmy, no!” She pulled him into a hug and felt his hands wrap tightly around her waist, anchoring himself to her, making sure she was safe and sound and alive. “I trust you, of course I do! It’s just… you already do so much for me… you already take care of me, like fucking now, bringing me food and shit. I don’t need you to worry for me like that any more than you already do.”

           “And what if I want to worry about you?” he muttered the question into the skin of her neck, grip only tightening. “What if I want to spend my days thinking about if you’ve eaten, or how well you slept? If you’re doing okay or maybe need a break? What if I,” he pulled back, taking a deep breath. “What if I want to take care of you when you’re sick… or hurt? What if I want to try and make it better for you?”

           He pressed his forehead to Y/N’s, and she could see it in his eyes when he looked at her from the bottom of his lashes – that fear and hesitation, that anxiety of being rejected or laughed at.

           Y/N glanced down at his lips, brushing a thumb along the bottom one. “You uh – you want to worry like that about everyone? Or just… me in particular?”

           She felt him release a stuttered breath before he whispered, “There is no one else but you.”

           Now Y/N was the one whose breath hitched, especially as their eyes met, cerulean pools boring into her Y/E/C ones.

           Her heart thudded hard against her ribs, and she was sure Carmy could feel its erratic rhythm where his chest was pressed tightly to hers. A soothing hand ran down her back and settled on the small of her waist.

           And then she regretted it. All of it. For being so stupid and thinking she’d be burdening him with that information, for trying to reject his help, his care, because who the hell was she kidding – that moment when Y/N’d felt the knife split her skin open, the first person she’d thought of calling, the first person she knew would come running for her was Carmy.

           Not the police, not the ambulance – but her sweet Bear.

           His hand slipped up along her waist, brushing against her stomach and the side of her breast before settling and cupping her cheek, Carmy tilting her head so she looked at him.

           It took the man a while to gather the courage to say the words, and he was full of nerves as he did so, Y/N had no doubts about that, but she pretty much thought she died when he said, “Can I kiss you?”

           Tears welled in her eyes, and all she could do was whisper a small, “Please,” before she was leaning in. Thankfully, he didn’t hesitate to respond, and they sunk into one another as their lips finally met.

Carmy was very mindful of Y/N’s injured arm, as he wrapped a hand around her waist and neck, holding her close to him, but not touching the wounded limb, while she put her hand against his chest, right in the centre, relishing the feeling of his heart thudding against it, loving the rhythm it beat in, as it sped up when she answered to his tongue’s question and she opened her mouth inviting it in. It was like her own tried to match the rhythm.

The kiss was searing, and filled with passion, months of pent-up pining finally put to rest from both ends, but also soothing. It was like coming home and being wrapped in a soft and warm blanket. Coming to her safe home. Finally.

After what felt like ages, they pulled back, but not completely, Y/N having pretty much a death grip on Carmy’s shirt, and she didn’t know if she had the strength not to rip it off his chest, while his own hands had moved to cup her jaw, not letting her run away from the all-consuming kisses they’d shared.

She could feel he was hard, the prominent bulge in his jeans brushing against her thigh as they’d kissed, and Y/N couldn’t lie and say her own underwear hadn’t soaked the moment Carmy had moaned into her mouth, but she knew she wasn’t up for that. Not yet. And so did he, as his eyes jotted to the scarlet patch on the arm of the sweatshirt.

           “Come,” he was breathing heavily, but a worried look had appeared on his face. “I’m gonna change your bandages, and then you’re gonna eat while I vacuum up the glass on the floor.”

           “Carmy you don’t have to do that…”

           His responding smile was soft. “And you said I could take care of you. So let me.”

           On instinct, she wanted to argue but bit down on her lip. Maybe she deserved to be taken care of.

           With expert skill, Carmy redressed the wound, placing the blood-soaked shirt in her dirty hamper while helping her get a new clean one on, and then the two settled on the same couch Y/N had spent her day, but not before, as he promised, he cleaned up the remaining glass, she hadn’t had the energy to.

           Resting her forehead against Carmy’s chest as he ran a hand up and down her back was the most soothing notion Y/N knew. They stayed on the sofa like that for a while, no TV on in the background, no nothing, just the two of them, soaking up one another’s touch until a thought entered Y/N’s mind.

           She snorted.

           Carmen pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “What’s so funny?”

           “It’s stupid.”

           “Well, will you tell me anyway?” she could hear the smile in his voice.

           “I just,” Y/N huffed, twisting her head so she could look up at him. “I realized, you’re a better robber than whoever the fuck broke into my apartment.”

           A furrow appeared between his brows, his gentle fingers brushing against her cheeks. “What do you mean?”

           “I mean he didn’t even get to steal anything, and yet I let you in ,and you’ve already taken something. Or maybe I even gave it to you.”

           “And what’s that?”

           “My heart.”

           And though it was terribly cheesy, Carmen didn’t dare laugh, not as a beautiful smile bloomed on his face, eyes filled with love. “I’ll keep it safe. If you let me, that is.”

           “I trust you.”

           “Thank you.” And the kiss he gave her was a seal of promise Y/N could feel in her very bones. She knew, though no longer hers, her heart would be safe with him. He wouldn’t break it.

           And maybe she could allow this one robbery, as long as he took care of her like that.

Tags (crossed out wouldn't take):

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstrange

A/N: Please someone get me a Carmy :(

P.S. Carmen tags are open :)

P.S.S what did you think?

P.S.S.S. please don't repost or translate on other platforms!

[dollfaceksj]

met him last night | ksj (m) pt. 2

➥ PAIRING: seokjin x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: You’ve worked in the office with Kim Seokjin for quite some time but you never really pay attention to him. He’s basically your stereotypical introverted nerd with complimentary glasses decorating his eyes and sweater vests clinging to his torso. Coincidentally, you bump into him outside of work. You’re in for the shock of your life when you find some stuff out about him.

➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ plot twist ⋆ porn with plot

➥ CATEGORY: two-shot

➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, bigdick!seokjin is real, protected sex, couch sex, praise kink, oral sex (rec m & f), face fucking, fingerfucking, cumshot on tits, cumshot on ass, little plottwist, doggy style, pinning arms back, cocky!seokjin, denied orgasm, missionary, minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 6.5k

a/n: ughhh i can’t believe its finally done! part 2 (and final part) to mhln !!! not betaread or anything so ignore any mistakes plsss hope u like it <3333 tell me ur thoughts <3

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

You quickly straighten your back up, trying to hide your nerves with your eyes still glued to him, intently watching as he makes his way over to you. You lean back into your sofa, glancing up at him as he places his knee next to your thigh and his hand next to your head against the backrest of your sofa.

His other hand moves forward to tilt your chin up, his thumb gently caressing your jaw. “It’s a shame, truly,” he mumbles as he uses his thumb to start wiping off whatever is left of your lipgloss, bringing his gloss-covered thumb to his lips to lick it clean.

Your brows pinch together at his words. You swallow, an attempt at drowning out your nerves before asking, “What is?”

Silence settles around you for a few seconds before he decides to speak again.

“That I’ll ruin your pretty makeup.”

Those are the last words that leave his mouth before he hunches over you and presses his plump lips to yours. The finger that was previously on your chin travels down your jaw to your neck, gently wrapping his hand around your throat to pull your face closer to his.

You’re just about to return the kiss when he abruptly pulls back, face still a centimeter away from yours as he glances down at your lips. “You’re gorgeous,” he mumbles before plopping down on the couch next to you and tugs you to him by your waist, motioning for you to sit on his lap.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you hike your skirt up to lunge at him, throwing your thigh over his and climbing onto his lap. He sinks further into your couch and shifts his gaze up to your face, plump bottom lip trapped between his teeth as his hands tightly grip onto your hips.

He lets your hands roam his chest, letting you feel every dip and muscle as you look down at him through hooded eyelids, hands moving up to cup his face. Your face closes in on his, your lips softly pressing against his pillowy ones in a heated kiss.

His hands tighten their grip on your hips, fingers sinking into the fabric of your skirt which makes you yelp against his mouth. It gives him the chance to lick into your mouth and he does.

He tastes like tomato sauce and basil.

You wrap your arms around his neck in an attempt to pull him even closer, your breasts pressed flat into his chest.

His hands slide down the sides of your thighs, giving them a soft squeeze. His tongue dances around yours, head tilting to the side to close whatever distance was still in between you two.

Your hips involuntarily jolt and grind into his groin, a soft moan sliding up the back of your throat at the friction. A low grunt rumbles in his chest, his own hips bucking up into your core, returning the favor.

His erection hardens under your sex and your mouth salivates at the thought of his massive dick, you want to taste him. You want to taste him real bad.

You pull away from his lips with a deep inhale and say, “Fuck, I want to suck you off.”

His eyes shift up to stare into yours, an unreadable expression on his features. You can’t help but glance down at his swollen lips as you await his response, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of your panties sticking to your sex.

“Not beating around the bush anymore, hm?” A cocky grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he sinks even further into your couch, adjusting his hips in his seat to help you slide off his lap.

You get onto your knees in front of him, the cold tiles sending a shiver up your spine. You slowly travel your hands up his leg, softly squeezing his soft skin when your hands arrive at his thighs.

“Pull me out.”

The words leave his mouth filled with so much arrogance that you can’t help but reach for his belt straight away, unbuckling it with a quickness. Your eyes travel up his figure, glancing up at him through your pretty lashes but he’s already staring back at you, hand reaching up and resting on top of your head.

He lifts his hips off the couch to help you slide his pants down and he instantly palms himself through his boxers, his other hand moving down your face to tilt your chin up. “You’re so pretty.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip at his compliment, creating a tightness in your stomach and a squeeze in your core, pussy clenching around absolutely nothing.

You tuck your fingers under the hem of his boxers and slowly tug them down, watching in anticipation as his dick springs free from under the hem.

What the fuck?

Your eyes widen as you stare at his erection, it’s still hardening and it’s already bigger than any dick you’ve ever seen before. Big veins trail down his dark shaft, the head of his dick begging for attention.

A chuckle makes his chest rumble when he sees your reaction. His hand wraps around the base of his shaft, causing him to hiss at the touch, a soft grunt pushing past his lips. Your eyes shift to the precum leaking from his tip and you almost drool all over his slacks.

“How the fuck is that supposed to fit literally anywhere?” you grumble, eyes glancing up at him for the first time since seeing his dick and he’s just got a smug smirk sitting on his gorgeous lips.

“You can take it,” he quips, “can’t you?”

Oh.

Well, now you want to do just that.

He places his other hand on your cranium as he moves the tip of his dick across your lips, smearing them full of his precum. You continue to stare at him, never once breaking eye contact, giving him the best doe-eyes you can muster.

“Just tap me twice if it becomes too much,” he adds, a sincere look in his eyes. You nod to his words, placing your hands on his thighs as you mentally prepare yourself to have destroyed vocal cords tomorrow morning.

“Now, stop looking at me with those innocent eyes and open up that pretty mouth like a good girl.”

You don’t hesitate for a second after hearing his words, parting your lips to take him into your mouth almost immediately after. You lower your head, wrapping your lips around the head and you gently start sucking on it. The hiss leaving his mouth tells you that he enjoys that, making you push your tongue flat against his slit and swirl it around to collect his salty precum on your tastebuds.

His hand tenses on top of your head and his hips unexpectedly buck up, making you gag. You keep his dick in your mouth but glare up at him, just in time to see him give you a sheepish, apologetic smile. You grunt as you lower your head again, your saliva rolling down his shaft as you try to take as much as you can of him into your mouth.

“Holy shit,” whispers Seokjin, hand delicately stroking your hair.

You grab onto the base of his dick with both hands and let your saliva roll down your fingers to lube them up enough to pump the part you can’t reach. You begin to take more of him into your mouth but you haven’t even made it halfway down before the head of his dick hits the back of your throat, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this,” he moans, his head rolling back onto the backrest of your coach, his chest dramatically rising and falling as he chases his breath.

You hum in response, watching how his hips are tensing and twitching, trying not to thrust up into your mouth. You slowly pull him out, a string of your saliva still connecting to his dick as you continue to jack him off. “I’ll let you fuck my mouth but if I tap twice, you have to stop, okay?”

His eyes shoot open at the offer and he whispers a low swear word before he nods and gets up onto his feet. He slings his suit jacket off, throwing it somewhere on your couch as you get onto your feet, hiking your skirt up so you can bend at the knees and squat in front of him since your knees were already starting to hurt.

He moves to stand in between your spread thighs, hands making their way back to your head as he slowly guides his dick back into your mouth. You move your hands up his bare legs, digging your nails into his warm skin as he starts thrusting into your warm, wet mouth.

You try to blink back your tears but it doesn’t help, every small thrust hits the back of your throat and you’re seconds away from suffocating. The tears start spilling out of your eyes but you refuse to stop him, the way he’s thrusting into your mouth with his head thrown back and soft moans leaving his lips is making you want to keep going, be the reason for his pleasure.

“Fuck, can I cum on your tits?” he asks in between moans, his thrusts getting even rougher. You finally tap his thigh twice and he immediately slides out of your mouth, reaching for your chin to make you tilt your head up at him. He scans your face with a concern frown but you simply slap his hand away.

Your hand reaches up as you start unbuttoning your silk shirt, successfully taking it off, tossing it aside and unclasping your bra all in a few seconds.

He doesn’t have to fucking ask twice.

He grunts, fingers coming back to hold your chin in place to look at him. Your makeup has undoubtedly smudged all over your face but you don’t care, not when Seokjin is looking at you as if you’re the most beautiful being he has ever laid his eyes upon.

He continues to pump himself with his other habd, chasing his own release. You slowly move back toward the couch, sprawling yourself out on the edge of the couch’s cushions and pulling Seokjin forwards to stand in between your spread thighs. You lean your upper back against the couch, allowing gravity to work for you as you reach up to his dick and take it from him, aiming the tip at your chest.

Your eyes travel up to meet his gaze as you start pumping him, watching as he stares you down with such overwhelming lust that it’s got your useless panties no longer acting as a barrier because you’re pretty sure you’ve started leaking through the fabric.

“Fuck,” he pauses after a deep inhale, “you’re so fucking pretty.”

An involuntary moan escapes your lips at the praise but your hands keep going, wanting nothing more than for him to cum all over your breasts.

“You’re pretty too,” you say with a sheepish smile, still looking up at him with your pretty eyes.

“I know,” he moans and the sight makes you giggle. At least he’s funny.

His dick twitches in your hand and before you know it, white ropes of his warm cum start coating your chest and nipples. He moans several swear words as he cums all over your breasts, his eyes taking in the sight and committing it to memory.

You’re upper body is sprawled on the couch cushions, tits covered in saliva and cum, makeup running down your face, hair fucked up.

You blink up at him with hooded eyes as your hands finally come to a stop, still gripping the base of his shaft.

“Fuck, don’t look at me like that,” he grunts, still chasing his breath as he wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

The Devil starts tugging on the corner of your lips, making you smirk. “Like what?”

“Like you want me to destroy you.”

You’re once again slapped in the face by his blunt words but you can’t help but want him to go through with that statement.

“But I do,” you reply, bringing up the back of your hand to wipe your chin clean of the saliva, or at least some of it.

“Yeah, I bet,” he mumbles as he starts unbuttoning his shirt and runs his hand through his hair, messing it up in the process.

He hunches over and pulls you up onto your feet, tugging your skirt down your hips without any obstacles and tossing it aside aggressively. He takes a seat on the couch and spreads his legs wide apart before tugging you toward him to sit in between his legs.

You move to tug off your panties but he stops you, just patting the spot in between his thighs, motioning for you to turn around. You blink at him for a moment before you place your ass right in between his thighs and lean your back into his chest like he wants you to.

His hand trails down your waist to your thigh, awakening the thousands of goosebumps underneath the upperlayer of your skin. He taps your skin gently, mumbling something about spreading for him and you comply.

He uses his other hand to hold your leg apart from the other by placing his hand under the back of your knee and pulling it up while his other hand slowly starts rubbing circles onto your clothed pussy.

You sigh at the friction, finally getting some attention and a soft moan escapes your lips.

“Fuck, you got that wet from sucking me off?” His voice rings in your ear and his proximity almost makes you dizzy, it’s the only explanation for the room that seems to be spinning around you. His words too, because they’re true. The kissing turned you on but letting him use your mouth left you dripping with arousal.

You hum in response as your hips start to roll into his hand, your eyes trailing down to your chest that’s still covered in his cum.

“Leave it like that, you look so pretty.” He must’ve noticed the way you were eyeing his load on your chest but you quickly nod, assuring him you were in no hurry to get rid of it.

He slowly peels your panties off your pussy, noticing the way they stick to your folds. He hums in delight as he pushes your underwear to the side. Your gaze shifts downwards and you intently watch as he effortlessly slides his fingers in between your folds, his fingers already soaked with your slick.

He pulls his fingers back, wanting a glimpse of his fingers covered in your slick. “Fuck,” whispers Seokjin.

You lean your head back into the crook of his neck as you moan softly, chest rising and falling dramatically. His lips leave soft kisses on the side of your neck as his fingers rub your clit, down to your slit, down to your hole to gently tease it.

You’re going to need all the preparation you can get because his dick will undoubtedly make you feel like you’re having sex for the first time all over again.

You impatiently rut your hips into his fingers but he just chuckles, gathering your slick onto his fingers and smearing it all over your sex.

“You’re so impatient, pretty.” His beautiful voice feels like it’s being ladled into your ear by a cloud yet his tone is coated in mockery.

You merely grunt in response before actually using your words. You grumble, “Put them in.”

A hoarse laugh pushes past his lips before he slides his middle and ring finger into your pussy, curling them right away. He watches you with a twisted smirk on his lips as you start writhing on him, bucking your hips the moment his fingertips graze your g-spot.

He shushes you quietly as he begins to fuck his fingers into you, slamming his palm against your clit and doing so at an angle that causes the disgusting gushing sound of your wet pussy to ring in your ears.

You shake your head, you plead, you cry, you do anything to let him know you want to cum, right now, right here on his fingers.

“Listen to that,” he mumbles, lips grazing the shell of your ear as he continues to curl his fingers every now and then. He watches you from the corner of his eyes, thoroughly enjoying how he’s got you writhing for him. “I need a taste.”

That’s all he says before hoisting you off of him and tossing you beside him, onto your couch. A gasp leaves your throat at the sudden strength he uses to do that and the way he drags you to the edge of the cushions, legs spread for him.

He settles on his knees in between your thighs, licking his lips at the sight of your glistening pussy in front of him. “Would you look at that?” he whispers, using his fingers to spread your folds for him.

Fortunately, he wastes no time and lowers his mouth onto your sex, tongue pressed flat against it as he licks up all of your arousal – that he’s the sole cause of.

A pathetic whimper slides up the back of your throat, legs jerking and body squirming under him but he simply chuckles. “I haven’t even done anything, look at you squirming.”

But then, his smile is nowhere to be seen and he’s got a black expression on his beautiful face. “Stay still,” he demands, his voice low and his eyes fixed on your pussy.

Your hips are restrained by his hands, holding you down against the couch as his tongue goes on a rampage against your poor clit. You cry and mewl under him, thighs shaking and fingers gripping at the pillows decorating your couch.

“Fuck,” you moan once he shoves his tongue into you, nose bumping against your clit and teasing you further while he fucks his wet muscle into you.

All you can do is moan and cry his name, fingers tugging at his perfectly styled hair but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“This pussy,” he mumbles as he shakes his head. “Might never get enough of it.” He dives right back in, mouth completely and aggressively devouring you as if he didn’t just have a meal.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum,” you sniff, hips jerking and thighs clenching but he continues to hold you down, not allowing you to escape his grasp. Your warning words only seem to encourage him as he completely sucks you for what you’re worth.

His precision and movements never falter, continuously stimulating your clit. “You’re already making me hard again,” he says matter-of-factly once he pulls back from your pussy. You think he’s edging you but that thought gets thrown out the window when he suddenly hooks his hands around the back of your thighs and shoves your legs toward you, pressed against your torso to spread you out even more for him.

If this pose isn’t embarrassing enough, him staring down at your pussy like this would certainly be enough to make you anxious.

“What?” you ask quietly as you glance down at him, your chest still in- and deflating from all that pleasure you received just now.

He glances up into your eyes for a few seconds with an unreadable look in his eyes before shifting his eyes back down to your sex, so spread and so exposed for him. “Just admiring your pussy. Can’t I?”

Your teeth roughly bite down on your bottom lip, eyes still watching his every move in anticipation.

But then he simply chuckles to himself before closing in on your pussy again and licking, sucking, making out with your nether regions as if he hasn’t eaten in days. Holy shit, he’s fucking good.

Ugh, why would anyone want to ditch him?

You almost flinch when he exhales slightly, something you’d describe as a quick chuckle. His breath drapes all over your pussy, making you glance down at him but he’s already staring at you.

“Why, thank you.” He rises to his feet as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and ditches the rest of his clothes. “But I was never stood up.”

Your brows pinch together. What is he talking about?

Hold on.

Did you actually say that outloud? Fuck. You goofy bitch!

“What do you mean, you were never stood up?” you mumble as you watch him rip a condom package with his teeth and slowly roll the condom onto his massive dick, giving it a few test tugs.

“Yeah, I lied,” he says nonchalantly as he pulls your leg up and slings it over his shoulder, pulling you to the edge of the couch whilst he stays kneeling on the floor in front of you.

“You lied? How did you lie? I saw you there, sitting by yourself…”

“Yeah, about that...” He slowly starts to push in, making sure to watch your face for any sign of regret or un-readiness.

But you simply squeeze your eyes shut at the burn, he’s inhumanely big and you’re already seeing celestial bodies on the back of your eyelids from how tightly you’re squeezing your eyes shut but he’s being very careful, clearly experienced in this regard.

Did he decide to spring that bullshit on you whilst pushing into you so you’d forget about it?

Well, it’s working. What the fuck?

You can’t help it, your teeth are digging into your bottom lip and your eyes are finally open once he bottoms out. Your walls are burning from the stretch, clearly not very welcoming in these few moments. A few of his hair strands are sticking to his forehead from the sweat but he never loses concentration of going slow and steady.

“You okay?” he whispers, gently rubbing your clit in hopes of helping you relax.

“Ye… Yeah, I think,” you whisper in response, mind clouded. You can’t think about anything else right now.

He slowly nods his head. “You’re going to squeeze my fucking dick off, doll. Relax for me,” he whispers as he reaches over to smooth out the scrunch in your brows with his thumb.

Damn, he’s so damn sexy. You really don’t know him at all.

“Well, clearly I’ve never had something that big shoved in there,” you snark, struggling a little as you do your best to just relax but of course, it’s easier said than done.

“I’ve never fucked anything this tight either,” he chuckles as he leans a bit closer into you, still fully shoved into you, yet not moving. “Let me kiss you.”

You stare into his big brown eyes, your own eyes dropping down to his lips before trailing back up to his eyes.

“Just breathe. You can take it, princess. Look at you, you look so pretty under me.” He leans further down until he’s pressed his lips against yours and if this is him trying to get your mind off of getting split in half by his dick, it’s working.

Because kissing Seokjin is otherworldly. His lips are so plump and pillowy, you could kiss him for fucking hours. You wonder what his lips would look like after making out for hours, swollen and red. Fuck.

He kisses you gently, one thumb still rubbing your clit and you’re trying so hard not to clench around his dick because you’re scared you might actually squeeze his dick off.

“Move,” you demand after a few moments of kissing, wrapping your legs around his waist and caging him in by locking your feet with each other behind his back.

He slowly, very slowly, starts to pull out of you, leaving the head of his dick inside before pushing back into you.

You mewl at the intrusion, throat dry with the sounds you’ve been letting out.

“Shhh, you’re doing so well. Taking it like a champ,” he whispers against your lips, steadily thrusting into you.

Ugh, what happened in your life for the nerdy intern to be talking you through sex right now?

“Faster,” you mumble once he pulls away from your lips, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I hear you,” he chuckles as he picks up the pace of his thrusting, hips rolling into yours at a delicious pace.

“Fuck,” you moan, actually enjoying the burning fullness he gives you. “Fuck, you– you said something about… about lying to me?”

He glances into your eyes, a pinch in his brows as he tries to keep himself from just moaning in response. “Yeah, I lied to you, princess. Sorry about that.”

A cry rips through your poor throat when he suddenly starts snapping his hips into yours, pounding you at a pace and with a type of strength that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Is he doing that to stop you from interrogating him?

“Shit, you’re making a mess on your floor, beautiful.” He says it with such cockiness in his tone that it makes you want to smack him right across the face but he’s just so fucking fine that you have no choice but to let it slide.

You watch as he reaches over to grab some of the paper towels that you placed on the coffee table earlier and uses them to wipe down his cum from your chest to avoid making a mess on your couch.

At least he’s considerate, you suppose.

You drop your head further back against the cushions, moans continuously spilling from your lips as his hips pound into yours, his dick rubbing every single millimeter of your slick walls.

Tears spill out of your eyes from all the sensations ripping through your body, your own hand coming up to shield the outside world from your loudness but Seokjin is quicker, slapping your hand away from your mouth.

“Let me hear how pretty I make you sound.” He simply continues to fuck into you, making sure your leg stays secured against his torso and over his shoulder.

He deliberately fucks you at an angle that makes the squelching of your pussy that much louder and embarrassing. “Listen to that,” he whispers, mockery on his face and a curl at the corners of his lips.

“Shut up,” you whimper, cheeks heated in embarrassment. “Don’t think I–” you yelp, “I forgot about you telling me you lied to me.”

He merely hums in response and leans back a bit, grabbing both your legs by the back of your knees and pushing them toward your chest while he continues to snap his hips into yours, stretching you out so harsh yet so fucking good.

“If you ask the right questions, I promise I’ll answer honestly.” His ragged breathing betrays his act of nonchalance but you’re too fucked out to point it out.

Ugh. Is this a game to him?

You inhale a shaky breath. “Did you get stood up or not?” you ask, hoping he’ll give you the clarification you’re looking for despite already having told you that he lied to you about it.

“No,” he replies, teeth digging into his plump bottom lip as you clench and squeeze around him.

You manage to ask through moans, “So, she did show up?”

He shakes his head, eyes glued to the way his dick slides in and out of you. He abruptly pulls out and turns you over by your waist, pressing your face, stomach and chest deeply into the cushions of your couch and wastes no time slamming back into you.

“Fuck!” you cry out with your knees now on the floor, mouth practically drooling all over your couch as he tugs your arms towards him and bends them at the elbows to pin them into your lower back, keeping you caged and with no other option than to take it.

And you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“No,” he grunts in reply, hips continuously snapping into your ass and his eyes glued to your bum recoiling against his body.

What the hell? He’s not making any sense.

If she didn’t show up, that means he got stood up, doesn’t it?

Wait.

The realization sets.

“Did–” you pause, trying to catch your breath. “Did you have a date at all?”

He hums in response as he fucks you, one hand keeping your arms pinned and one hand coming down to squeeze the soft skin of your ass.

“I didn’t.”

Huh?

An involuntary sob escapes you, earning a cocky chuckle from him. Bastard. “So,” you start, “what were you doing there?”

He was just sitting there. He hadn’t even ordered yet. Why the hell was he there?

He kisses his teeth with a loud smack as he stays quiet for a few moments after your question. “I own the restaurant.”

Record scratch.

What?

You echo, “You own the restaurant?”

That restaurant is very fancy and pricey, why was he working in a company like yours if he owned a restaurant like that?

“Well, my dad does.” He lets go of your arms to grip both your hips, rocking you back onto his sex instead of fucking you. “I’ll be inheriting it soon.”

Fucking hell.

That explains the expensive car.

The next few moments are just filled with moans, heavy breathing and skin slapping. His fingers dig into your skin, gripping you tightly as if you’d slip through of his fingers.

Your own hand reaches down and starts rubbing at your clit, teeth abusing your bottom lip as you squeeze your eyes shut. “Fuck,” you whimper as your orgasm starts approaching.

“You gonna cum?” he whispers, slightly picking up the pace of his thrusts.

You quickly nod your head, face still buried in your coach and it’s going to be very fun to clean that makeup off your couch.

“Go on, then,” he encourages, his hand coming down to your ass in a rough slap, making you jolt forwards from the impact.

Swear words continue to fall from his lips and you struggle to even form a coherent sentence.

But then, the world stops spinning and the room starts to.

Your phone is ringing. Fuck!

You slowly reach over and turn your screen to face you, curses falling from your lips.

Seokjin asks, “Who is that?”

Fuck. “It’s Taehyung. He probably wants to know if I got home okay. I’ll just text him la–”

“Pick up,” he says, thrusts never halting. Actually, his hips pound into yours even harsher. Bastard.

You squeal, “I’m not going to pick up while I’m–”

He cuts you off. “While you’re getting fucked by me?”

“It has nothing to do with you. Just… you know. Me getting fucked.”

A sultry chuckle leaves his mouth and he gradually slows down in pace, sensually rolling his hips into yours. “Go on, pick up.”

An exasperated sigh leaves your mouth quietly as you accept the call and put the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Yo, where are you?”

“I’m uh,” you mumble as you shake your head, trying so hard to not focus on the way the tip of Seokjin’s dick softly kisses your cervix with each thrust. “I’m home.”

“Alright. Cool if I come over?”

Your eyes almost pop out of your eye sockets. “What? No. You can’t come over.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because,” you pause as you glance over your shoulder into Seokjin’s eyes with an expression on your face that only feeds his damn ego. “Just because, okay?”

“But you– oh.” Taehyung goes quiet. “Oh. I see how it is,” he says and you can practically hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.

“Bye, Taehyung.”

“I bet you’re getting dicked down by big dick Seokj–”

Your thumb quickly slams down on the red hang up button before you toss your phone aside, ready to hear Seokjin’s comments and questions about the phone call but he doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he picks up the pace again, fucking you just the way he seems to like it.

He places his hands on your shoulders and continues to fuck the absolute shit out of you, making you arch your back and ruin your throat with the way he’s pounding your poor pussy.

The consistent thrusts and his silent whispers of praise are what ultimately send you over the edge, your entire body shuddering and falling limp against the couch as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. You pathetically cry out under him, clenching around him, the entire room spinning as his big dick slides in and out of you.

“Shit, you’re so fucking hot,” he mumbles as he spreads your asscheeks apart, eyes glued to how he slides in and out of you and the way your tight pussy grips onto him. “Can I cum on you again?”

Fuck. He can cum wherever the fuck he wants.

“Yeah,” you whimper in overstimulation, not having enough energy or sass to roll your eyes at his cocky chuckle. Bastard.

“You’re so good to me,” he whispers, hips snapping into your ass as he chases his own high. It doesn’t take long until he completely pulls out of you and yanks the condom off, aiming his dick at your ass and unloading all over your bum, coating your skin in his cum.

“Fuck,” he groans, watching as you reach for your ass and spread your cheeks for him, looking over your shoulder at him.

He mumbles, “Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

You merely hum in response, still in the clouds from that orgasm as he milks himself of every drop on your soft skin.

After he comes down from his high, he focuses on catching his breath but doesn’t wait for much longer until he reaches for the roll of paper towels again. He quietly cleans you up, slow and steady, making sure not to spill before he moves onto the mess you made on the floor.

He gently tugs your panties back up your legs and by the time he’s helped you sit back onto the couch, he’s already fully dressed.

He looks down at you, wiping some of your makeup with the paper towels but it’s not doing much. “I like how fucked your face is,” he comments, rubbing your chin with his thumb as he stands before you.

A scowl forms on your face but it just elicits a chuckle from him before he leans down and softly pecks your lips.

He reaches for your elbows and helps you rise to your feet, asking for directions to your room.

Once he’s helped you out of your clothes and thoroughly cleaned you up, he helps you into bed.

When the click of the door handle being turned reaches your ears, you stop him by calling out his name and it makes him glance at you over his. shoulder. “You can just stay. It’s really late.”

He stares at you for a moment before chuckling and adding a shake to his head for good measure. “One conversation and I’m spending the night? I wonder how long it’ll take for you to fall for me.”

You roll your eyes exaggeratedly and pettily turn onto your side, giving him your cold back. “Then don’t stay, I was just trying to be polite.”

His obnoxious laugh rips through your eardrums and it’s like he’s the only person on Earth with you now.

It isn’t long before you hear the ruffling of his clothes and the mattress behind you dipping under his weight.

You try to go to sleep with his soft breath grazing your neck but unfortunately, you can’t ignore it and it takes you a whole lot of time to actually doze off.

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The soft clinking of metal wakes you out of your slumber. You slowly awaken, your eyes meeting his figure in the corner of your room as he buckles his belt in front of the mirror.

You slowly sit up and rub the sleep out of your eyes. “Why did you lie to me?” you hoarsely ask him, this time not beating around the bush.

He glances at you through the mirror for a second, probably surprised that you’ve woken up. He then fully returns his attention to himself and shrugs his shoulders with a hint of nonchalance. “Why were you nice to me when no one else was?”

At this, you can’t help but frown. What kind of a question is that? “Because I’m a decent human being?”

He tilts his head to the side at your answer, eyes staring at you through the mirror in silence for several seconds.

“And I’m not.” He turns around to face you. “Does that answer your question, lovely?” he says it with so much nonchalance and arrogance, like he genuinely doesn’t care at all.

You idly blink at him through the mirror from where you’re seated, mind booming with all the images of nerdy Seokjin and it’s like you’re staring at a completely different person. Are you sure he doesn’t have an evil twin or something like that?

He slowly walks up to you and it makes you sit up even straighter and for some reason his proximity still makes you nervous. Your eyes slowly travel up his body, finally glancing at him through your pretty lashes.

“I put my number on that note over there. Call me whenever you need me.” He nods towards your nightstand and you follow his line of direction, noticing a pink post-it with his number, name and a winking smiley scribbled on it.

When you turn your head back to look at him, he raises his hand and strokes your head before leaning down to press a gentle peck to your pouty lips. “Or whenever you want me, I don’t judge.” He winks at you, rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb before straightening his back and gathering his wallet and keys.

Is this really how it’s going to go?

“Wait,” you call out. He cocks an eyebrow at you as he absentmindedly slides his wallet and keys into the pockets of his slacks.

You say, “Am I supposed to just… act like nothing happened?” With a slight shake to your head, you continue, “Tomorrow at work? Like you haven’t shown me your true colors?”

Is he going to act like nothing happened? Is he going to be the same Seokjin you’ve always known? Will he have a distinct look in your eye every time he looks at you? Couldn’t you just out him to the others? Why was he comfortable showing you such private matters about himself?

His dark eyes stare into yours for a moment longer and it almost stings, it stings the way he stares you down. The faintest smirk creeps onto his lips and you can swear you just met the Devil, standing face to face with evil reincarnated.

Then, he simply shrugs his shoulders and drops them again as he heads out the door, not even looking back at you.

“It’s not like anyone would believe you anyways.”

And with that, he exits your apartment, leaving you to process what happened in the past 12 hours on your own.

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[inkspiredwriting]

Culinary Catastrophe

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Five Hargreeves was not one to shy away from a challenge. He had faced apocalyptic threats, time travel mishaps, and family drama with a calm demeanor. But tonight, he was taking on a different kind of challenge: cooking a romantic dinner for his wife, Y/N.

Five had meticulously planned the evening. He had chosen a recipe for her favorite dish, set the table with candles and flowers, and even picked out a nice bottle of wine. He wanted everything to be perfect.

As Y/N was out running errands, Five started in the kitchen with an air of confidence. How hard could it be? He had faced the end of the world multiple times; surely, a simple dinner would be a piece of cake. He rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

Things began to unravel almost immediately. The first sign of trouble came when he couldn’t find the right ingredients. He had forgotten to buy fresh basil, and the grocery store only had dried herbs. “No problem,” he thought, “I’ll make do.”

Then, he realized he didn’t know how to properly dice an onion. What should have been a quick task turned into a tearful, uneven mess. By the time he had the onion somewhat chopped, his eyes were stinging so much he had to take a break.

Determined to press on, Five moved to the stove. He was supposed to sauté the onions until they were golden brown, but he got distracted looking for a misplaced spatula. The onions burned, filling the kitchen with smoke.

“Damn it,” Five muttered, opening the window to clear the air. He tossed the charred onions and started over, this time paying closer attention.

Next, he tried to make the sauce. The recipe called for a delicate balance of spices, cream, and tomatoes. Five, thinking he could eyeball the measurements, ended up with a concoction that was either too salty, too spicy, or just plain odd-tasting. Each attempt got progressively worse, and he was rapidly running out of ingredients.

Meanwhile, the pasta was supposed to be al dente, but Five misjudged the timing and ended up with a pot of mushy noodles. He groaned in frustration, his once pristine kitchen now a battlefield of dirty dishes, spilled ingredients, and a burned potholder.

Just as he was about to give up, the front door opened, and Y/N walked in. She sniffed the air, her brow furrowing. “What’s that smell?” she called out, heading towards the kitchen.

Five, who had flour on his shirt and sauce splattered on his face, turned to face her with a sheepish grin. “Uh, surprise?”

Y/N took in the scene: the chaotic kitchen, the failed attempts at dinner, and her frazzled husband. She couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “Oh, Five, what happened?”

Five rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly embarrassed. “I wanted to cook you a nice dinner, but it turns out saving the world is easier than making pasta.”

Y/N walked over and kissed him on the cheek. “It’s the thought that counts. Thank you for trying. It means a lot.”

Five smiled, relieved that she wasn’t upset. “How about we order takeout and call it a night?”

Y/N nodded, still chuckling. “That sounds perfect. We can even eat it by candlelight.”

As they waited for the delivery, Five and Y/N cleaned up the kitchen together, turning the mishap into a fun, shared experience. They ended up sitting on the floor, eating pizza by candlelight and laughing about Five’s culinary catastrophe.

“I guess I should stick to what I’m good at,” Five said, taking a bite of his slice.

Y/N shook her head, smiling fondly at him. “You’re good at a lot of things, Five. But tonight, you’ve proven that you’re also good at making me feel loved. And that’s what really matters.”

Five pulled her close, grateful for her understanding. “I love you, Y/N. Even if I’m a terrible cook.”

Y/N kissed him softly. “I love you too, Five. And for the record, I think you’d make a great chef with a little practice.”

Five laughed, holding her tighter. “Maybe. But for now, I’m just happy to be with you.”

The night might not have gone as planned, but it ended up being perfect in its own way. Five and Y/N realized that sometimes, the best memories are made when things go hilariously wrong.

[moonstruckme]

Hey so i have a request and you can totally say no if this makes you uncomfortable but would you consider writing a poly marauders x reader where the readers depressed and can’t get anything done im asking cause I’ve been. Going through something and i thought id be okay by now but I’ve kinda regressed idk and now im depressed idk pls don’t write this if its to hard or upsetting

Thank you for your request lovely, I really hope things are getting easier for you or that they do soon <3

cw: depression

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 981 words

You realize the boys must be home when Remus crouches in front of you. You hadn’t heard the car come up the driveway, nor the door opening. You were too deep inside your own head. Or maybe you’d drifted off into another of your light, unsatisfying sleeps. 

“Hi.” He offers you a little smile, putting out his hand. You worm yours out from under your blanket to give it to him, and he rubs his thumb across your knuckles fondly. “How was your day, lovely?” 

“Fine,” you say. Your voice rasps a bit from disuse. 

“I’m opening the curtains,” James warns from somewhere behind you. “Here, take these.” 

Sirius’ grunt sounds surprised. “Since when is carrying in the groceries a relay sport?” he complains. 

True to James’ word, light floods the living room a moment later. It illuminates Remus’ face in front of you, letting you see the gentle concern in his eyes. His gaze moves up above your head just before strong hands grasp you by the shoulders. 

“I missed you,” says James, hugging downwards at you until he gives up and lets his body flop over the back of the couch, “so much, today.” 

You pet down the hair at his nape, love like a bubble in your chest that’s always on the brink of popping. You love the way James hugs; it’s like he really is trying to feel as close to you as he can be, with his face bent towards your neck and one hand splayed behind your heart. You let yourself meld to him. Remus starts collecting your little mess from the coffee table, taking things into the kitchen.

“It was only a few hours,” you say. 

James makes a jokey harrumphing sound. “A few hours too many.” He lets you go to plant a smacking kiss on your cheek. “If you could have one thing for dinner tonight, what would it be?” 

“I thought we agreed to stop playing that game,” says Sirius, coming back in to sit down on the armrest of the couch. He sees where you’re toying with James’ hair and takes a lock between his own fingers. “You need a haircut, Jamie.” 

“You’re one to talk,” James quips, though he leans into the touch, always more than happy to have his hair played with. “And we only agreed to stop playing with you, because your expectations were too high.” 

“They were not.” 

“Why would you think we’d be able to get what we needed for escargot at our corner shop?” 

“If you didn’t want to know what I actually wanted, you shouldn’t have asked.” 

“Anyway,” James turns back to you, “what would you have, lovie?” 

“And before you say,” says Sirius, “the correct answer is tomato basil soup with a cheese toastie.”

James sulks, thwarted, and you stroke your thumb over his nape consolingly. “That sounds really lovely,” you say earnestly. “Was I really supposed to guess that on my own, though?” 

“You might’ve,” he mumbles. “Anyway, I was thinking you could be my soup stirrer. If you’re up for the task.” 

It’s an odd feeling, affection and guilt intertwined so well you can’t fully tell which is which. You know James is making a point of asking you so that you might come to the kitchen, be among them for a bit instead of staying off in your own world, do a task that makes you feel productive even if it’s small. You appreciate that he does it, and you loathe yourself for making him feel the need to. You wish your boyfriends wouldn’t coddle you not because you don’t like it but because you like it too much. You don’t deserve it. 

“Hey.” Sirius’ voice draws you back out from inside your head again. It’s become such a frequent haunt you don’t always realize you’re going anymore. He’s studying you. “You okay?” 

You hum as Remus comes back in, sitting on the now clean coffee table. “Thanks for doing that,” you murmur. His eyebrows lift slightly when he realizes you’re talking to him. “Sorry I left a mess.” 

Remus tsks, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair from your forehead. “It wasn’t really a mess,” he says. “I don’t mind. Are you going to help us with dinner?” 

“Yeah.” It’s not so much a decision as a yielding, but James beams like you’ve made his day. It makes you want to cry. 

Sirius wraps an arm around your waist as you go to the kitchen, squeezing the fat of your hip lovingly. “Think I’ll take up the duty of stirring the soup, too,” he says to you. “Seems like a two-person job.” 

“Probably, yeah.” You let yourself lean into his side. He takes your weight happily, mushing a kiss into your hair. “Sorry I’m so lame lately,” you tell him quietly. “You guys don’t need to coddle me so much.” 

“You’re not lame, who said that?” Sirius jostles you a little bit. When you don’t laugh, he changes his approach, leaning his head against yours. “We’re not coddling you, sweetheart. You’re just in a rut right now, yeah? And we’re meeting you where you’re at.” 

He makes it sound so simple, but your throat clogs with the true difficulty of it all. When you reply your voice is thick. “But I don’t know if I’ll be able to get out.” 

“You will,” he promises surely. “I don’t know how long it might take, but it’ll happen. And if whatever we’re doing isn’t working for you, we can figure something else out, okay? We’re with you.” 

When James says it’s your time to stir, Sirius insists on standing behind you and holding your hand that’s holding the spoon. Remus rolls his eyes at the idea of it being a two-person job, but you don’t know. You think maybe it takes all four of you to make it work.

[trashmouth-richie]

masterlist

eddie x fem reader

chapter summary: how sweet it is, to be loved.

series summary: You were desperate for a roommate after Nancy got married and moved out. An ad in the paper goes unanswered until someone comes knocking on the door.

special thanks: to anyone and everyone who read a single chapter or kept up with this series to the end, thank you so much- this story wouldn’t be possible without your support.

author’s note: I can’t believe this is the final chapter for this series, I’m feeling so many emotions right now but mostly just love for Eddie and Tooty and everything in between. Thank you to anyone who has helped me beta ( @sweetsweetjellybean especially!)this story or fan girled with me over upcoming chapters. To any of the very talented artists who have made any art for this series, thank you so very much, each and every piece holds such a special place in my heart. To anyone who is mentioned in this story, thank you so so much, @loveshotzz @chechelia @carolmunson @mopeymopeymouse and everyone else— thank you for allowing me to include you in this series. To everyone who has liked, rb’d left a comment or interacted in any way with this series— THANK YOU. This series has brought such joy & heartache to me, and I’m so lucky to have people enjoy it. 🖤

Cereal

Hotdogs

Bananas

Jelly —grape, not strawberry

Bread

Crackers 

Toothpaste 

Noodles 

Chicken thighs— babe are you making fun of me?

Heartburn medicine

You tap the chewed cap of your pen along the lined paper of a scribble heavy grocery list. Desperately wishing you had x-ray vision to see inside your cabinets and remember what you were in need of, you chew the cap again.

Giggling to yourself every so often at Eddie’s notes on the grocery list. Crossing off items he thought weren’t needed, mostly vegetables he didn’t like. And always making sure you got his favorites. And not, “that healthy bullshit cereal, give me sugar or kill me babe, I will not eat Raisin Bran” 

Peanut butter 

Sunny D

Thyme 

Heavy cream

Basil

Carrots

Onions

Chicken stock

Hey sweetheart can you please get me some candy? I like skittles but you know I love m&ms.. and twizzlers, it’s for the shop. :) 

The lady behind the desk chirps a name again, but you are still racking your brain on what else was needed. The soup you had planned on making tonight would be perfect for the chilly weather rolling in. November was coming in like a lion, ferociously cold and temperatures already dipping below zero. 

Eddie loved your potato soup, so much that he begged you to make it after another long, grisly week at the shop. 

He loved everything you made, even your chili that he doctored up by adding sour cream and Doritos to it. Bon Appetit he would say with a smirk on his lips, a heaping bowl steaming in front of him. 

The clerk behind the desk tutted and huffed, the schedule was getting behind.  

“Tooty Munson! Is there a Tooty Munson here?”

You glance up quickly at the sound of your name, “shit,” you breathe, “here, yes,” you scramble shoving the list and pen into your purse, buried amongst the gum wrappers and a spilled container of tic-tacs. 

The receptionist clicks her papers against the formica counter and holds her nose in the air, as if this job and you were beneath her. 

“He’s ready for you now.”

—-

“…alright, Ed, did ya look o’er those applications yet? ‘Tween you D and Mike I don’t think we are going to be able to keep up everything that we got on the schedule.” 

Wayne’s eyebrows are raised as he looks over the bifocals perched on his nose. He had been scouring over the schedules and the books for the better half of the afternoon since lunch hour—trying to figure out how to swing their overloaded schedule. 

It wasn’t that they couldn’t do the work, they were simply short handed. After Boom closed his doors  in Hawkins, he had recommended to his regulars that they travel to Bridgeport to Master Mechanics to see Eddie and Wayne. Business was booming, and the Munson’s could barely keep up.

Early on, Wayne and Eddie decided they would only be open until noon on Saturday’s but now with the packed schedule, they worked til almost dark every night of the week, including some Sundays.

Wayne rubs his short nails through his scratchy mostly white scruff, “we can’t have these boys workin’ like this, they’ll quit on us before you can slap a tick.”

Eddie was leaning against the doorway, a bottle of Coca Cola held limp in his hand, a greasy rag stuffed in his back pocket. 

“Yeah,” he yawns, stretching out his back, “let’s hire ‘em all, we need the extra hands, or I’m gonna need an extra back.”

Wayne grunts in confirmation. The highlighter squeaks as it’s drug across the phone numbers on the applications, “I’ll call ‘em first thing in the morning,” he straightens up his desk and shoves the papers into a drawer. 

His glasses clink as he folds them up and lays them next to a picture of the newlywed Munson’s. He leans back in his chair, the leather crinkling beneath his worn coveralls, “I’m callin’ it for the day,” he exhaled, staring up at the ceiling, “it’s been one helluva week and I’m shot, tell the boys to go home to their wives.” 

“and you too,” he points, “go take care of your wife, Ed, tell her I hope she starts to feelin’ better.” 

Eddie’s curls bounce as he nods his head, completely drained from the week, shit maybe he was getting sick too? “she went to the doctor today, probably just the flu, Max told her it was going around.” 

“Well then,” Wayne says, standing up and clicking off the table lamp, “take tomorrow off and rest–

both of ya, hear me?” 

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” 

—

Eddie’s tires crunch on the ice and hard packed snow of the driveway, a silent serenity, meaning he is only moments away from holding you in his arms, seconds away from kissing your lips, and if he was lucky, minutes from eating something delicious to fill his grumbling stomach. 

He throws the truck into neutral, killing the engine and tossing the keys around his finger. Tracks from your Jeep tires lead into the garage he had built last spring. A huge project that your friends were paid in beer and a bonfire when it was all finished. 

Thrusting his sore hands into his canvas coat, he ducked his chin into the zipper and braved the asthma inducing gust of wind to the front door as it whipped through his curls. 

The house was oddly quiet, only the hum of the refrigerator making any sort of sound. Usually when he came home you’d be playing the radio, or talking on the phone to Max or Nancy, greeting him with a pop of your head around the wall in the kitchen or from the hallway, the prettiest smile put on your lips. 

“Princess?” he called out in endearment as he untied his boots and put them on the shoe rack. His coatwas already hanging on its hook, usually next to your purse but your purse was thrown onto the arm chair, and your shoes were in the hallway like you had walked right out of them. 

He undid the buttons of his work blues, letting them hang at his waist like a mechanic cape. Socked feet trudge down the carpeted hallway, you must not be feeling any better, probably too exhausted to make it out of bed.

But Eddie was wrong.

You were perched on top of the comforter, coat still on but unzipped staring at the door waiting for his arrival, fuzzy socks on your wiggling toes. 

“Hey, handsome,” you said, trying to keep your pitch even. 

“There’s my girl,” his velvet voice wrapping around you like a hug as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for your left hand and kissing the finger that adorned the prettiest ring he’d ever bought, “how’s my beautiful wife?” 

It had been five months since you said I do. A June wedding in your own backyard, filled with friends who had served as family for years, gathered by your sides. 

“I forgot the potatoes,” you say blankly, a weird little smile on your face. 

Eddie sits down next to you, rubbing your thigh back and forth and letting out an exhausted yawn, “That’s alright, I can make us some grilled cheese if you’re up for—”

“I was looking at my grocery list, and couldn’t remember what I’d forgot.”

Eddie’s confused, but wants to reassure you that its no big deal, he’s a grown man he can certainly make supper for himself and his wife. “Sweetheart it’s okay, don’t beat yours—“

“Can’t make potato soup without potatoes.” And this time you laugh, kind of whimsically and in disbelief. 

His brows turn inward, still he just keeps reassuring you that everything is fine, “It’s okay Tooty, seriously. Let me go make you some—”

And for the third time tonight, you interrupted him, “doctor said that’s normal.”

He’s exhausted and is honestly more confused than he would like to admit, “what? The flu?” 

“No, no. “ you say, a twisted little smirk on your face, “forgetting things, throwing up in the morning, being exhausted… totally normal.” 

“Babe?” He moves to touch the back of his hand to your head, wincing when he realizes that he’s probably freezing.

“I was so scared the last time,” you whisper, teary eyed, “terrified.. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but now—.”

Eddie reaches for your cheeks, holding them softly, his eyes searching yours, desperate to figure out what the hell is going on, “what am I missing here? It’s normal to have… the flu?” 

“No, it’s not the flu,” you finally admit, looking up at him and rubbing the back of his hands with your thumbs, 

“Eddie, I’m pregnant.”

— 

You could fill an empty pool up from the tears that sprung from Eddie’s eyes that night. He was overjoyed, holding you tight while he wept into your hair. Kissing your belly and whispering to the baby. Small streaks of tears flowing down your swollen skin and the faded scar across your lower belly. 

Each month that ticked by, Eddie’s worry only doubled. 

The day after you had found out, he woke early. Watching as your chest rose and fell as you slept soundly in the original mock up of his hellfire shirt.

It was threadbare, cotton worn so thin it was practically see through— but you claimed it as your own back in the early days of your new relationship, hands on your hips and the infamous pout on your lip as you playfully argued with him about how it was now yours. 

Dusk painted the diamond covered ground from the fresh snow over night. Falling as delicately as his lips allover your skin. Soaking up the dainty noises from your throat when he carefully slid into you, tears spilling from both of your eyelashes, love filling the room more sweetly than it ever had before. 

The soft cotton of the blankets hugged your curves, and he exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he gazed down at his beautiful— now pregnant— wife. 

His sweet Tooty, carrying a gift more precious than gold. 

Kissing your cheek—he dressed quietly, scribbling a note on the bedside table about going into town for a bit, but to just relax in bed until he got home. 

-

You were having a dreamless sleep, not even sugarplums could dance in your head with the overwhelming exhaustion that your body was trying desperately to catch up from. 

Something cold then silky smooth brushed against your cheek, and a velvet voice sang a little good morning greeting into your ear. Your loving husband. Pressing sweet angel kisses behind your ear and on your eyelids. 

Your bedroom was lit with the glow of a warm sun in the afternoon light. Playing a yellowed hue of warmth across your comforter, pulling the caramel color from Eddie’s curls and making his eyes look like a dreamy cup of coffee swirling with creamer. 

His lips hug yours, both smiling into one another. Heart swelling more than your toes would in the months to come. 

C’mon, got a surprise for you, princess. 

The spare bedroom that was once a room for band equipment, then Max’s bedroom for almost a year before she eventually moved in with Gareth and Will, now held storage, was completely organized, and held a wide array of items. 

A crib, brand new and still in the box, a pack n play, a swing, every box of diapers ranging from size 1 - 5, baby gates, outlet covers, fancy locks for cabinets and drawers, rubber bumpers for sharp corners and edges of tables. 

A bookshelf full of baby books, how to’s for new parents, nursery rhymes by mother goose, books suggesting baby names and their meanings, and a guide on how to quit smoking. 

Tucked into the corner of the room by the bookshelf and near the window, was a rocking chair. 

 “Eddie,” you gasp, running sleep from your eyes, “wh-what is all of this?” 

He’s smiling ear to ear, trying to curb his enthusiasm a tiny bit. “I might have gotten a little carried away.” 

Turning towards the shelf you see a plastic sack, full of candy and bubble gum, and mints. “Edward Joseph Munson.” 

“Don’t scold me, mama,” he jokes, grabbing onto your hips and kissing your hairline, “I’m just spoiling our baby.”

God you loved this man, he’d break his neck to give you the world. He was the most loving husband, and now you got to see him step into a new role. One completely foreign to you both, only have shared the idea for a few moments before it was ripped away. 

You lean into him, holding him tight and working your nose into the crook of his neck. “You’re gonna be the best dad, Eddie.”

He doesn’t hide the tear that slips down his cheek, just lets it slide and collect under his chin, his voice is quiet when he asks, “you really think so?”

“I know it.”

—

Wayne and Karen followed behind the new family in his pickup all the way home from the hospital. They were going to stay for a few days, help you both get adjusted to life as parents.

Karen and Nancy had filled your freezer with casseroles, soups and fresh bread. It was a hot July day when you were scheduled for the c section, and when it was all said and done four days in the hospital was more than enough and you were ready to be at home, snuggled up with your new family. 

It was a battle of which Munson man could shed the most tears. Eddie and Wayne were both wiping away tears for hours. Overjoyed with emotions that everyone was healthy. 

“No you don’t,” Wayne said as you reached for the back door to grab the diaper bag, “you go right inside and get comfy, get them legs up!”

You do as your told, leaving Wayne, Eddie and Karen to carry the load in. The hospital stay was overwhelmingly sweet, but you knew Eddie was itching to get back to normalcy, still not liking the way he felt cooped up in the hospital even though it had been years since you both had the horrifying visit. 

Bags and suitcases are carried in and set into your master bedroom to be unpacked later, bottles and diapers are stacked and put into their respectable places. Karen starts warming up the chicken casserole she had prepared earlier that day. Wayne fussed around with the new dishwasher that he and Eddie had installed the month prior. 

Throughout the commotion you had fallen asleep, legs propped up in the recliner, but you woke to the sound of the front door closing, and there he was.

Eddie was holding them both, large hands cocooned around their swaddled little bodies, crooked into each of his arms. Something he was nervous about but slowly getting the hang of, the nurses told him he was a natural, and Wayne wept into Karen’s shoulder when Eddie introduced the twins to their grandpa. 

His normal obnoxious voice was murmuring low and quiet like a soft lullaby so as not to stir awake the sleeping little babies. 

He looked at them both, adoration and tears springing into his eyes. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life. How he could have helped make something so small and delicate, he wouldn’t understand. But, he didn’t need to. 

A boy, born first— with his dark eyes and brown hair, and later the little girl, almost identical to his Tooty, and just as stubborn, both already wrapped around his fingers.

He murmured their names, and caught your eye as he said it, a smile so wide on his face that you were sure new dimples would bust through his cheeks, and you only heard the end of what he was saying. 

If you would have told yourself five years ago that you would one day own a home, get married to and have twins with Eddie Munson, you would have laughed on the spot. That loud mouth jackass of a guy you had once regretted letting move into your home, had moved right into your heart and never left. 

The demons inside you both were finally at bay, finding solace in one another in more ways than you had thought possible. Being loved by Eddie was everything you had thought love should be like. 

And you pinch yourself to make sure it's real, and each and every time, it is. 

“…babies,” he says, a smile on his lips and tears in his eyes as he looks over at you, his family, “we’re home.” 

The end

♡tag list: @dashingdeb16 @emxxblog @pretendthisnameisclever @mommybaby-witch @eddies-acousticguitar @tlclick73 @figmentofquinn @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @whenshelanded @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord * @leelei1980 @browneyes8288 @emilyslutface @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiesxangel @elegantkoalapaper * @str4ngergirlw0rld * @corrodedcoffincumslut @nailbatanddungeon @crybabyddl @zenathebeautiful @astela17 @taintedcigs @bettyfrommars @munsonsuccubus @munson-blurbs @hollandweather @serasvictoria @steviesgrl @curiositydooropened @ashyyboyy @urlbitchin @sllooney @lame0o @ali-r3n @bangaveragewhitewine @b-irock @enam3l @luxaeterna13 @manda-panda-monium @elthreetimes @joejoequinnquinn

[upsidedownwithsteve]

dad!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

kidfic from the simmer verse 🍳 inspired by this ask/tiktok

When your daughter turned six, you and Eddie moved out of your apartment and into a home fit for a family. One with a big bay window and a huge garden, an oak tree out the back for Eddie to hang a swing from.

It came with a wrap around porch and the kitchen of Eddie’s dreams and Maeve got to pick the colour for her new bedroom, a mustard yellow that made her room feeling like an eternal summer. She was her daddy’s girl, a princess.

And then she turned twelve.

Eddie was in the kitchen when Maeve appeared, already so much taller than Eddie liked, her hair the same colour as yours but as curly as her fathers. She was just as pouty now, preteen hormones making her perpetually moody, sulking in corners and stealing away to her bedroom with Basil.

Now? Now she seemed to be on a mission.

“Dad?”

Eddie looked up from the cook book he was reading, tired eyed after an early morning meeting at the restaurant. They were making a new menu and Eddie had been worn thin, working too late and coming home to make you taste test all his new ideas. You never complained.

“Yeah, squish?”

“I’m hungry,” Maeve announced, sliding herself onto one of the barstools at the large island. Copper pots hung on a rack from the ceiling, casting bronze coloured reflections off of the girls cheeks. She still had freckles from the summer, a scratch on her chin from where uncle Argyle had tried to teach her how to skateboard. “Can you make me something?”

“Yeah, babe, sure,” Eddie wandered over to the fridge and he pulled out some containers. He wiggled one enticingly. “I made some mac ‘n’ cheese last night, you want me to hear some up?”

Maeve wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like mac ‘n’ cheese.”

Eddie’s face fell and his frown matched his daughters perfectly. If you’d been home from work, you would’ve laughed and called her his comeuppance.

“Well, you liked it fine last week.”

The twelve year old just shrugged, her legs swinging from her stool. “Well, I don’t anymore,” she replied with just as much indignation as her dad. “Can I get some pizza pockets?”

Now Eddie really did huff. The only reason the box of pastry abominations were in his freezer to begin with is because you’d done the last grocery shop. He narrowed his eyes at Maeve but moved to the freezer door when she giggled.

“We need to teach you some taste, kid,” Eddie tried to act stern. “How many you want? You starvin’?”

Maeve leaned onto her elbows and let her hands squish her cheeks. Her nails were black and glittery, painted carefully by you a few nights before and she’d proudly shown her dad her colour choice when he came home from work. “I don’t know, just two.”

“You don’t know?” Eddie questioned and he peered over his shoulder, the over door open. “You said you were hungry, babe. This is a meal for a hamster.”

Basil appeared at the mention of rodents, the black cat slinking into the kitchen to wind around Eddie’s ankles.

“I’ll have some chips too.” Maeve announced. “And some sliced apple, but only like, four slices, okay?”

Eddie blinked. “Four?”

“Yes, please.”

Well, at least she had manners. Eddie grumbled under his breath but did as told, shoving in the pizza horror before washing off an apple under the tap. He cut it as his girl watched, chomping every other slice until only four remained.

The timer on the oven had five minutes left. “Anything else, princess?”

Maeve seemed to ponder this question before she nodded, her little face as serious as could be. “Some grapes too, but just ten. And if there’s some baby bells left, I’ll have one. Oh, and seven gummy worms.”

Eddie’s lips were parted, his brows raised as he stared across the counter at his daughter. He didn’t know whether to laugh or call you and ask if this was some kind of prank he didn’t know about.

“What?”

Maeve blinked. “What?”

So Eddie huffed again and got out a plate, murmuring nonsense to himself as he gathered Maeve’s order, glaring playfully at her as he counted out exactly ten grapes. She grinned as she leaned over, laughing mischievously as she plucked one from the plate.

And when Eddie gasped, all theatrical, Maeve pointed to her plate and told him quite plainly around a mouthful of fruit, “dad, I said ten.”

Eventually, the timer beeped and two pizza pockets with oozing fake cheese were added to the plate. Eddie slid it over with a flourish, cackling when Maeve took offence to one gummy worm touching the pizza sauce that had leaked out. So he snatched it and shoved it into his mouth biting off the side with the sauce before dropping it back onto her plate.

“Dad! Ew!” Maeve gasped, throughly insulted but she slunk off her stool and Eddie flicked her on the as she passed, grinning when she scurried back to her room with Basil at her feet.

[arvensimp]

your father should know, pt. 4

Arven leaves you with something more than either of you bargained for when he goes off to Kalos for an internship, and through a series of miscommunications and heartbreak, he returns a few years later to learn that he actually has a child.

arven x fem!reader, nsfw content (in pt. 1), pregnancy (pts. 1, 2, & 2.5), angst, and stupid miscommunications

[part 1][part 2][part 2.5][part 3]

I'M HERE AGAIN THANKS FOR THE WAIT. SORRY ABOUT BEING THE WAY I AM LMAO please enjoy the next installment. it's not beta'd i'm out here livin like larry

~

[Group Chat: Team Star? More Like, Time To Go To HR AmIRight???]

WalkWalkFashionBaby: hey @ ParadoxChamp is this your man?

WalkWalkFashionBaby: [sent a photo]

[Image description: A man with wavy, longish ash blond and light brown hair, accompanied by a Mabosstiff, walking down the streets of Mesagoza. His hands are in his pockets, and he seems to be smiling.]

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: ?????????

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: !!!!!!!?!

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: yo wtf 

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: first of all that deadbeat isnt her man ortega

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: second

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: yea uh

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: @ paradoxchamp did you know he was back in town???????

CassiopeiaYamahaSteinway: third @ giacomo4pm momo if you don't change our nicknames in this chat back to normal I will absolutely dox you (again) and then change them back myself

Giacomo4pm: Can do, will do.

Giacomo4pm: Also, yo, damn, what's he doing back? I thought he fled the country or whatever.

--

Rika: so the sperm donor's here. Just came up the hill asking for you. Want me to send him packing?

Rika: yeah u do

Rika: well... I do.

Rika: also unrelated, holy sHIT, man's genes are strong. It's like I'm looking into a time machine for Basil's future.

Rika: except, you know. Basil will be way cooler and more handsome with your genes mixed in.

Rika: ❤️

Rika: plus no shitty facial hair.

Rika: or better facial hair.

Rika: anyway, I'm gonna eviscerate him.

Rika: love you. ❤️

--

You had been in Area Zero, gathering information on moth pokemon for Jacq when the director called, his usually placid voice laced with an edge of steel.

"Basil's father just stopped by." He says without preamble.

Your heart sinks, and you nearly lose your grip on Raidon, only barely managing to stay upright and drag the pokemon to a halt.

"His what?" You splutter, changing the phone to your other ear, as if you hadn't heard correctly.

"His father." The director repeats. "I know we have not...explicitly discussed Basil's paternity, but, well," He tsks lightly. "He showed up to speak to me."

Your head is filled with tarountula webbing. You feel your hearing go fuzzy, but somehow your hands direct Raidon up and toward the closest lab station. Out, out, out. Back to the school. Back to Basil, back to--

"I'm on my way to the entrance to Area Zero now." Clavell continues when you don't reply after a few moments. "I'll meet you there with Basil."

"What did he want?" You finally ask as you enter the station.

"I didn't give him the opportunity to chitchat."

You hum. "One second, Sir." You step into the transport pad.

A moment later, and Clavell is right in front of you, Basil tucked safely in his stroller, looking just as he did when you dropped him off this morning, save for his hair looking a little...off. You disregard it.

"Thank you so much." You sigh, hanging up the phone as Clavell gives you a sad sort of smile.

"Anything for you two." He says.

You kneel and try to fluff up your son's hair, but it has dried all crunchy from whatever happened during the day. He's getting a bath later, so you don't fret over it and just smile warmly to him, trying not to let your panic show.

"Ready to go home, sweet thing?" You ask him.

Basil nods, reaching with little hands for yours in his hair. "Mhmm!" He nods. "Ahso, Mama! I saw a big buddy! A big, BIG buddy!"

Clavell clears his throat and provides some context. "Mabosstiff said hello."

You look up to the director, knowing exactly which Mabosstiff he must mean. "Oh? Mabosstiff! That's...that's so great!" If your register is maybe just a touch too high, your smile too tight, it's only to maintain face in front of the boy to whom you turn back. "Were you kind? Remember how we always wanna be nice to new pokemon, yeah?"

"Uh-huh, uh-huh! He gived me a kisses! A lotsa kisses!"

So that's the crunch in his hair.

Oh, Mabosstiff...

"That's my sweet boy." You sigh, ruffling the mess before standing again to face the director.

"Thanks again. I'm gonna..." Another long exhale. "I'm gonna get us home."

Clavell nods. "You know how to reach me if you need something. And... Well, if you want me to intercede on your behalf, I'm happy to have words." He says stoically. "At times I felt I was the closest thing..." He gestures with his head outward toward the school. "He had to a parent in his life... I..." It's his turn to sigh. "I don't understand what happened there. How he could do what his own parents did to him? I'm sorry. If it's any consolation."

Your heart squeezes, and you distract yourself from the feeling by digging your nails into the soft foam of the handles of Basil's stroller. "Don't be. He made his choice, y'know?" You try to smile, but it's shaky. "He deserves to have the life he wants."

"He deserves a kick in the pants." Clavell responds. "Not that I'm an advocate for corporal punishment..." He adjusts his glasses in that grandfatherly way.

You laugh.

"Well, if he sticks around long enough, maybe you'll get a chance."

You hope he doesn't stick around.

Or...do you?

Do you even want to see him?

Either way, you don't want to linger on it in the lab.

"I'm gonna take this little one home."

Clavell nods. "Until later."

And then you're calling a cab to get back to your place, and Clavell is on his way back to the office.

While you're in the cab, you check your messages and sigh. Seems like Ortega caught a glimpse of Arven, and Rika is...fucking with him in some way or another.

You ignore your old classmates and opt to just text Rika.

Me: Got Basil from Clavell and we're on our way home rn/

Me: Love you too ofc 💖💖

A minute or so later, your phone buzzes. Rika again.

Rika: he's gone now

Rika: I put the fear of arceus in him if i do say so myself

You roll your eyes, smiling wryly. By now the cab is slowly descending to the space just outside your home, so you pocket the device and maneuver Basil in his stroller out of the cramped space and into the house.

Once he's unbuckled from his seat, he's bouncing around and grabbing at the attached bag, the one containing Buddy's pokeball, asking in broken syllables if they can play. 

It isn't a huge deal to let the pup out of the ball to play, so you hand it over to Basil, reminding him how to behave with his friend. At the same time, you also release Skeledirge to keep a watchful eye over the pair for a moment.

In the weeks since the Raisins Incident, as you've called it, you've come to the realization that your team can be of some assistance to you when you need a moment to yourself, when you're overwhelmed. Obviously Skeledirge isn't a parent. Neither is Raidon or Tinkaton or Screamtail or anyone else, but Skeledirge is smart enough to keep them safe for the precious seconds you need to breathe.

So you let the three alone in the living room and retire to your bedroom for a moment to collapse on the bed and gather your thoughts. You only need a few seconds. Just a few seconds of Mama time...just a few.

There's a sound at your open door as Basil toddles in, two pokemon in tow.

"Mama... Hungy?" He asks, clenching his shirt in tiny balled fists.

"Oh, sweetness..." You sigh, leaning down to pick him up and seat him securely on your lap. "You're hungry?" You press your face into his head, expecting its usual downy softness and the comfort of your child's scent, only to be met with that uncomfortable crunch of dried Mabosstiff slobber. Out of Basil's line of sight, your nose crinkles. "Let's see what we've got in the kitchen, yeah?"

"Toast? Toast 'n jellies?" He asks hopefully.

"I think we could do that, my littlest..." You respond with a smile, hefting your boy onto your hip as you trudge into the kitchen.

Of course, it would be just your luck that you're entirely out of oran jelly, the only jelly that Basil will eat right now. Thank you, developing taste buds and picky eating...

Maybe he won't notice if you try to give him pinap jelly instead this once?

You prepare his plate, the toast lovingly cut into four triangles, and you give him his sippy cup as well, but Basil only stares down unhappily at the food.

"Jellies?" He asks, his tiny button nose wrinkling.

"Yeah, Baby, I made you toast and jelly." Your heart clenches, anxiety rising, but you try to keep your voice chipper.

"Nuh-uh!" He insists, pushing the plate away.

"Oh, I'm sorry. We don't have the usual jelly. Do you wanna try this instead?"

Your son looks at you with wide eyes, rapidly filling with tears. His lower lip wobbles, and his brow furrows angrily. Times like these it's almost crazy how much he looks like...

No, focus!

"It's good, I promise. Wanna see? Mama will have some." You take a bite of one of the triangles and make a show of smiling. "Mmm! So yummy! It's really tasty!"

"No!" Basils yells in response, his tiny tears now falling. Hangry isn't a good look on the little guy.

"Ahhh, we gotta get you something to eat, huh, bud."

"Jellies!" He blubbers, only barely understandable through his tantrum. Buddy the Maschiff jumps up, placing his front paws on Basil's feet, trying to get at the food, and Basil complies, shoving it down to the pup.

You sigh. "Alright."

Buddy re-enters his ball, still chewing the bread, and you take Basil from his high chair, depositing him in his stroller.

"We'll go to the market and get your good jelly, okay? Super duper fast, then we'll come home and have a feast."

Basil is still crying, but the promise of his good jelly seems to placate him somewhat.

It'll be fine anyway. The market is only a short walk from your apartment building, and you'll only be out for a few minutes. 

The journey there is easy. Basil's stroller is one of those fancy transforming models that's great for all kinds of terrain while also being pretty light. It helps that the market is all outdoors, too. Less helpful is the fact that the stalls are fairly narrowly placed beside one another. At least it feels that way with all the people around, but it isn't overly cumbersome to navigate.

"Jellies!" Basil starts to whine as you approach the stall that he's come to learn has his favorite snack. He starts making grabby hands towards the jars along the table, and you attempt to quietly stop him.

"Yup! They've got your jelly here. Once I pay, you can hold the jar, if you like. Sound good?"

"I pick, I pick!" Basil insists, arching his tiny body as best he can away from the stroller's restraining buckle.

"Hey now," You press a soft but firm hand against him, guiding him back to his seat. "I'll let you pick, but you have to be polite. Say please and thank you to the salesperson, kay?"

Your son huffs, squirming a bit more before collapsing against the seat. "I be good. I good." He grumbles, and you're finally able to unbuckle him and take him up in your arms.

"Okay now. Can you ask for what you want?" You give the salesperson a thankful smile as you speak to Basil. They seem willing to be patient with your little one.

"Jellies!!!" He cries gleefully.

"Jellies, what, bud?"

"Jellies, pease!!!"

"There you go... We're gonna get some oran berry jelly." You tell the salesperson, already reaching into your bag with the hand that isn't carrying Basil. "Remember, these are glass, so you gotta hold it gently."

Basil carefully (or as carefully as a nearly-two year old can) chooses a bright blue jar, holding it in both of his hands.

Gently, so as not to jostle Basil enough that he drops his prize, you rearrange him on your hip, freeing an arm to reach into your bag, so you can pay the shop keeper. 

That's when you hear it. Not particularly loud compared to the hum of the crowd, but clear as day anyway.

The sound of your name being called gives you pause. You look around. It's not uncommon for you to be recognized, but you're already on edge. Hopefully it's just a fan or something?

–

You heard him. From the way you stopped and looked around, hiking the kid up just a bit higher on your hip as you distractedly tried to find the source of his voice, it was obvious.

It isn't an overly crowded market, but there are definitely enough people milling around that quick travel isn't really feasible from where he stands, particularly if he wants to get closer.

He calls your name again, louder this time. Before it had almost been breathless, filled with surprise, hurt, delight, just a tumultuous storm of emotions tearing through his stomach at the sight of you, the sight of his little carbon copy in your arms. Now he's really trying to get your attention.

You pinpoint him, and Arven waves, his bulky form helping to differentiate him from the rest of the crowd.

He... He can't read your face. You look like a deerling caught in Flash. He watches as you quickly shuffle, taking your boy (his boy?) away. Are... Are you for real fleeing from him? He calls your name again, trying to move closer to your retreating form, but it's no use. He makes it to the stall where you were before. He's positive of it because you left the stroller behind, and judging by the yelling from the salesperson, you made off with some product without paying. It's a no-brainer for him to lay down the cash needed, assuaging the anger of the clerk. Arven also grabs the stroller, giving a nervous laugh about how forgetful you must be before he starts trekking with it in the direction that you fled.

Except. He quickly realizes that's not really gonna get him anywhere. He has no idea where you live. Yeah, he knows where you used to live, almost 3 years ago, but that was basically a shoebox, a place to store your supplies while out and about as a champ. No way you're there still. Not with a kid. Right?

He eventually takes a seat on a bench close to the market, keeping the stroller next to him. You've gotta come back for it soon, right? Even then though, he has no idea how long it might take you to come back. 

Once again, Arven desperately wishes you hadn't blocked him way back when. He pulls out his phone, hoping to shoot you a text, on the off-chance that maybe you unblocked him at some point maybe?

Me: Hi, Buddy!

is all he types before seeing the tell-tale red messaging, showing that the number is indeed still blocked. Ugh.

Fuck, maybe...maybe he could use a pay phone or something? Just to tell you where your stroller is. But are there even any pay phones anymore?

As it turns out, they do still exist! There's one just on the edge of the market, so Arven makes his way over, pulling out his phone to copy your number once he's in the booth.

Except.

That's not a Paldean area code he sees. It's Kalosian. Yes, it's your name as the contact, and it's your final, nasty message to him there in the texts, but....it's not your number. There's not even a call history that goes back that far for him to try and grab the number that he just can't seem to remember entirely. He used to have it memorized, once upon a time, the two of you having been the other's emergency contact for so long, so he knows he's not crazy. That number...

He realizes on a second glance that the number is affiliated with Bon Applintit. It's got the same starting numbers after the area code.

What the hell happened to--

"Arven!!!!" The cry of his name startles him out of the thought, but he tucks it away for later. There's something very, very off going on, beyond the kid and everything. Which also??? Kinda absolutely bonkers. He's not gonna lie to himself. He also can't think too hard about it.

"Arven!" Nemona pulls him from that dizzying train of thought, as well as the phone booth. "I've been sent to just, uh...grab this from you..." She tells him, awkwardly trying to work her way around him to grab at the stroller's handlebars. "Ya know... Mama and Basil need it and all." She laughs a bit uncomfortably, continuing her attempt to pry the pram from him.

"Basil?" He says out loud, the name punching him harder than any Hitmonchan. His fists clench tighter around the bars.

Nemona slaps a hand over her mouth, allowing Arven to angle the stroller away from her. "Were you not supposed to know? Ah, gosh darn it!"

"I mean--!" He starts defensively. "I guess?! I never knew about...about any of this!" He gesticulates wildly. "When was anyone gonna tell me about Basil, huh? What the hell, Nemona!?"

She gives him a strange look, her lips pursed and brows quirked. "You... You really had no idea?" She crosses her arms, studying Arven's expression. "Hold on."

Nemona takes out her phone and starts texting. Arven does his absolute best to be patient, but with every passing second he's growing more agitated. 

"Okay, listen! Someone has GOT to tell me what's going on!" He eventually bursts. "Who IS this kid? Why does she have him? Why does... I mean, why does the kid look like me? Everyone's been treating me like shit since I got here, and none of it makes any goddamn sense! If anyone cares to hear MY side of the story, she blocked ME! And to my knowledge it was just over a few missed calls! I thought she was just overreacting! I had no idea about any of this!" His anger over it all, over getting shunned by his friends years ago, over Clavell’s insults, comparing him to his father, it all bubbles over, and he’s letting it out on Nemona. 

She hushes him with a sound and a not-so-placating finger, not bothering to even look up as she texts with a single thumb. "Hold on, hold on, hold on..." The patronizing nature of it all pulls a huff from Arven, whose grip on the handles of the strollers is so strong his knuckles go white.

His friend locks the screen and looks back to him. Her gaze is steady and serious, in stark contrast to her typical jovial self.

"Okay. I believe you, amigo. You say you've got no idea what's going on? I'm sorry to hear that. I really, really wish I could just tell you everything. Or at least, what I think is everything? But this isn't really my place. Not my mankey, not my circus. I'm just the mankey's fun tia, y'know?" She tries to lighten the mood a bit, but it absolutely falls short. "But. For real, this isn't the kind of chisme I enjoy. Not when it involves any of you. I'm talking to her now." Nemona shakes the phone in her hand. "I'm gonna see if she's willing to hear you out."

"Hear me out? She was the one--"

"That isn't how anyone here knows the story, Arven. At least what she's been able to bring herself to tell of it. I don't think any of us can claim to know all the details, but do you think she'd lie to make you look bad? Really?"

That seems to give Arven pause. At least long enough for Nemona to check the latest message from you. She smiles.

"She's on her way to the Treasure Eatery and will meet with you there. Be sure to bring the stroller."

--

Arven makes it to the restaurant before you. It isn't really surprising, given your detour to the league building to drop Basil off with Nemona for a bit. He ought to thank his lucky stars for Nemona pleading his case to you, saying he seemed to be genuinely confused and distraught over the situation. Otherwise you wouldn't have bothered. This is...exhausting to think about. Facing him. Trying to figure out what he wants. Why he came.

You won't lie, your initial thoughts as you rushed home with Basil tucked tightly in your arms, shielding him from his father, were rather dark. Was Arven here to try and take him? Did he think he could use your baby as some kind of prop in his social media videos? People go crazy for dads after all.

But, no. If you're honest with yourself (like Nemona urged you to be) that's not the man you knew. You couldn't imagine him becoming someone like that either, especially if he didn't want to be a dad in the first place... Beyond that, if you think rationally for a moment, there isn't a court in the world that would order your toddler son to another country without you.

No, this...this will be safe. It will be scary. To see him again. But. There's no need to think there's danger. It will just be kind of scary. And you can deal with scary, if only for a few minutes. 

"Hey." Your voice sounds drained as you drop your bag on your side of the booth and follow behind it to sit. You want to look at him. Look him in the eye and ask him what his deal is, but you just can't summon that brand of bravery.

"Hey." His tone isn't really discernable; you can't guess what he's thinking. "I, uh...ordered your usual drink. Or...What you used to order? If that's cool?"

Sure enough, there on the tabletop is your go-to drink from the Treasure Eatery, a ring of condensation already formed at the base of the glass, dampening the flimsy cardboard of the disposable coaster.

"Oh." It surprises you, that small bit of thoughtfulness. "Thanks." You take the glass in both hands and sip, letting the frosty cold of it ground you before you finally look up to see him.

He's... He's so much like Basil, it makes a lump form in the back of your throat. The nose, the eyebrows, the bow of his lips. You've seen them all every day for almost two years now in the face of your little boy; things you noticed and adored, now mimicked before you. Beyond that, he's still Arven. Time hasn't changed him too terribly much. For an adult, it hasn't been too long, so it's not like he's suddenly grey and withered before you or something. The biggest difference is how he pulls his hair back into a low ponytail, the patchy stubble around his cheeks and chin. He's either growing it out to try something new or just hasn't bothered with a razor for a while.

"Hey." You finally say. Truth be told, if not for your drink, your throat would've gone dry just seeing him again.

"So..." He starts, leading.

"So...you're back."

"Uh. Yeah. The plan was to spend the weekend clearing out my old storage....and...head back to Lumiose..."

"'The plan was?'" You ask.

"W-Well, I mean... I. I don't think I can just go back now, can I?"

You tense. Why did that feel like an attack? "I don't see why not. You didn't seem to think it was important to, you know, come back before now. What makes you think you have to stay?" Your tone comes off colder, more callous, than your aching heart would otherwise reveal, and it does its job, egging Arven onto frustration.

"I saw Clavell with Basil." He starts, pausing when he notices your flinch at the name. "Then I saw him with you. And... I mean..."

"Oh, so you saw him and now suddenly you care?" You ask, venom dripping more than you'd care to admit.

"What are you saying?!" He grates, volume only as loud as public decorum would allow in the bustling restaurant. "You... You have to be kidding, right? Of course I care! There's... There's a whole kid! Right? Where did he come from, huh? Cuz, like... Those don't just appear! And he's yours, right? He's gotta be! Like, obviously I see my...resemblance, but I see you in him, too!" That surprises you. No one ever found your features in Basil anymore, save for your mom, who made an off-handed comment once or twice about your eye shape or something.

Arven takes your silence as reason to continue "I mean... I've seen my photos from a young age... I..." His anger fizzles out into confusion as he goes on. "I don't want to make assumptions about...about us or what we were? But...looking at that kid, it's gotta be, right? That it was me? That I'm..." He can't say it out loud. "But why? Why didn't you say something? Why did you hide something like that? Cuz, like... I mean...even...even if he were someone else's... I mean, why wouldn't you have said something?"

"Hide it?!" The accusation shocks you into a response. "I never hid anything! I tried telling you for ages, back when you actually picked up the damn phone! You forced me into having to text you about my son! Then you blocked me! I have the receipts, Arven. I don't know what kind of delusion you've got going on in that head of yours, but I never hid my boy from you until I was given reason to! Why would I go out of my way to force a child upon a man who couldn't acknowledge him? Why wouldn't I keep my son safe from someone who didn't have the decency to be there for him? For me?"

Your tone has risen to a point where a few of the surrounding tables have hushed to listen in, and Arven can tell that prying eyes and ears are now on you both. He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, an attempt to steady himself, keep from getting more heated in public. 

"Bud." He begins, the old nickname hitting you like a sucker punch. "I never knew. I don't know what happened there, but I promise. I promise on Mabosstiff's life that I had no clue about any of this. I think there had to have been some kinda mix up..." You watch as cogs turn in his head. "I think... I'm thinking maybe something happened with my phone." He says, pulling the device from his pocket. "Like... Lemme just try and make this clear from my end. Okay? I got this text from you..." He starts, tapping the screen. "It was kinda mean, and when I tried to respond, I was blocked." He holds up the conversation for you to read.

>Hey! Sorry we keep missing each other lately! I hope things are okay? Are you staying warm? It's getting kinda cold here.

>can we not do this?

>Not do what?

>"This" i'm getting real fuckin tired of you bailing on me all the time now that your some hot shot kalosian celebrity guy

>Whoa. Where is this even coming from??

>you kno exactly where its coming from, arven. Youve been super shitty to me since you left paldea and it really hurts my feelings.

>I'm sorry? I've been busy here. It's been a lot getting used to a whole new place and a whole new language. I thought you understood that. I really am sorry though.

>y'know what? I dont really care at this point. Ive had enough waiting around for you to call me or text me back. there are guys here who can do better by me

>[One Missed Call]

>[One Missed Call]

>[One Missed Call]

>Are you being serious right now? You can't be. This is a joke?

>[One Missed Call]

>[The number you are trying to reach has been disconnected and is no longer in service.]

Your face pales and stomach sinks as you read it. "Arven, I--"

"I just noticed earlier when I tried calling you about the stroller. That isn't even your number. It's Kalosian. It's... I think it's affiliated with my company? I can't be sure yet, but..." He locks the screen and puts his phone down. "I know now that you never sent those messages, and that somehow I lost everything related to your contact. So...whatever you might've sent...it isn't here. I couldn't have seen it."

With a nearly shaking hand, you grab his phone and open it back up, still remembering his old passcode (Mabosstiff's Pokedex number). "Hold on..." You absolutely sent a message. Whether it was deleted or not... You check his blocked numbers, knowing that on your end, you've been blocked since back when you first told him about the pregnancy. "Yup..." You show him the screen. There among several spam numbers was your own. "You blocked me."

Arven opens his mouth to argue. "Or, I guess," You continue before he has a chance to interrupt. "I was blocked... somehow? I still... I don't see how this could have happened..." You set the phone down and fish out your own from your bag. "Here." It only takes a moment to pull up your old conversations. "You can read for yourself what I tried to tell you."

>Hey! I know this isn't ideal, and I really would have rather said it in person or over a face call or even just a regular call, but I think you need to know, and I'm having a really hard time verbalizing it to you. I'm sorry to do it this way, but it's better to say it now than not at all, right?

>I'm pregnant, and it's yours.

>I'm so, so, SO sorry! I promise I didn't mean for it to happen like this, and I'm not trying to like…baby trap you or something. I swear! You're my best friend in the whole world, and I'm so happy that you can go and live your dream in Kalos right now. But I just feel like you should know? Like you should have a say in what happens here? I'd love to talk to you. Do...do you want to do this? Because....well if you're willing I'd want to try this. With you. But I also know that you're living your dream right now, and I don't want to get in the way of that! I want you to be able to really embrace this new journey you're taking and learn and grow and do wonderful things! But I just wanted you to know, you know? Please don't hate me. Just give me a call when you have a minute, and we can figure this out. Okay?

. Then after several months, you’d sent a picture. Just a simple selfie of you, looking exhausted beyond belief, hair tamped down to your head with sweat, but still smiling. In your arms is a tiny bundle with a little purple hat, face looking squished and wrinkly and perfect. Arven knows exactly what he’s looking at before he’s read your final message.

>He's here. I don't know if you care, necessarily? But... I love him so much, and I don't understand how you couldn't, so I thought I should share.

You watch as Arven tears up, holding your phone like a tiny, precious creature. "I never knew. I... I swear I didn't." He swallows. "My...my team... They all have access to my phone. Something must've... Someone, I guess..." He shudders then looks to you, resolute. "I'll figure it out. But." Arven looks at your hand on the table then flexes his own, curling and uncurling it from a fist. "I... I wanted to know. I should've known. I'm so sorry this happened..."

"Me too..." The anger and fear and sadness you had churning in your gut this whole time slowly begins to still. You don't know how to feel exactly about the misunderstanding, but you know Arven. You know he isn't lying to you, and to hear him apologize for all of this... It's like a weight off of your soul.

Arven pauses, gathering himself then stares you in the eye. "I was supposed to leave tomorrow, head back. Fuck that. I need to be here. I need to see him.”

It's another punch to the gut, and on instinct, you respond. "No."